And Brenda Was Filled With Kindness
by punkinoodle
Summary: Aching and confused, the six human souls wake up in stone coffins after being released by Asriel and helping to break the barrier to the surface. Hand in hand, they seek to find where they came from and a place where they belong. Rating is T due to heavy topics; there's no swearing or adult content.
1. Mia Was Filled With Patience

**_Fair warning: Mia's parents were verbally abusive and neglectful, and some parts get kind of sad. If you think that this will be triggering to you, it may be best to skip this perspective._**

 _For those of you looking for the first perspective, "And Brenda Was Filled With Kindness," it was pushed to Chapter 2. When I upload the next chapter, it will be pushed to Chapter 3, etc._

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Before she even opened her eyes, Mia felt a burning pain dancing over her entire body. She began to scream and contracted into a tiny ball, her arms and legs squeezed into her chest as tightly as she could draw them. She did not know where she was or what had happened to her; all she knew was this mysterious, searing pain. She kicked and thrashed about, her movements limited by walls that stood, cold and solid, close on every side of her. Her cries rang close in her own ears, locked in this unforgiving prison with her.

Minutes passed, and the pain did to seem to lessen. Her eyes and cheeks were flooded with tears, and her voice ached from wailing. Every so often, she heard a small noise, a bump here, and a whisper there. But when she opened her eyes, all she could see was darkness.

Just when she had given up all hope of ever escaping her lonely torture, the blackness behind her eyelids turned to a pale red glow, and she felt a puff of air whisper onto her face. A gentle voice wafted down to her.

"Hey! What's wrong? What's wrong, dear?"

Mia turned her head slightly and, for a split-second, looked up in the direction of the voice. A kindly pair of blue eyes met hers, looking down at her sympathetically. A blonde-haired woman, who appeared to be the possessor of the voice, was crouching down very near to her. She appeared to be quite young, though much older than Mia was. The lid of her confinement had been removed, and the woman was gripping the edge of one of the solid, grey slabs which penned her in on every side.

Mia screwed her eyes shut as quickly as she had opened them.

"It hurts… It hurts!" she whimpered.

"What hurts?" The woman asked.

"Everything!" Mia cried.

She didn't know this person, but in her heart, Mia desperately hoped that she would be able to somehow ease her suffering. Not that she expected her to care about her, personally. Why would she? Mia knew she was a bad girl; she had been told that often enough. No, the girl would only stay until she had somehow managed to get her to stop crying, then she would leave, and she would be left once again to her own devices. Crying was irritating to adults, she knew, and most of the time, the only attention they gave her was to make her be quiet. But somehow, Mia still had hope that this girl would be different.

The older girl was murmuring soft and soothing words to her. She reached down and stroked her cheek, gently wiping away her tears. Minutes passed, and gradually, the pain faded into a dull ache that Mia found more manageable. Her shrill cries dulled to the occasional whimper. She was still in pain, but it was nowhere near as bad as it had been before the girl's arrival.

"Is your name Mia?" the girl asked her, gently.

Mia nodded. She did not wonder how the girl had guessed her name. She didn't even give it a second thought.

"And how old are you, Mia?"

"Six," she responded without hesitation.

Now that she had quieted, Mia could hear the sounds of motion and other young voices elsewhere in the room. Specifically, she heard the voice of an older boy, who seemed to be encouraging someone to get up. He had a thick accent that made her think that he might be a cowboy. She rolled onto her back. From this angle, she had a much better view of the woman who had removed the lid from her confinement. She had withdrawn her hand and was looking in the direction of the voice.

Mia stared at her, intensely. It surprised her that she had asked about how old she was. Even more surprising was the fact that she was still there with her. It was touching to her, this patience that was being shown to her by the older girl. She remembered that this girl was not the only one to have shown her this form of kindness. Her mind wandered to Toriel, one of the only people she could think of who had actually cared for her, personally. She had given her everything she could ever need, providing a constant stream of care and affection. When she was with her, she had known in her heart that she was loved. She wondered why she had ever left her and her warm Home. As she reflected on these things, she was filled with curiosity and a longing to see her again.

"Where's Toriel?" she asked the older girl.

The girl turned and looked down at her, blankly.

"I don't know," she replied.

Mia was disappointed. She thought that maybe, since they were so similar, the girl would know something about her kindly caretaker. The girl reached a hand down towards her.

"Mia, do you think you can sit up?" she asked.

Mia thought for a moment. She had not really been thinking about her pain, but it was definitely still there. She thought she might be able to stand if she were forced, but she really did not want to. She did not reply, but continued to stare at this strange woman with the kind eyes.

"It's alright," the girl said, "I'll wait for you."

Mia felt a pang of guilt. This girl had been so gentle with her, so kind. It as the least she could do to try to do what she asked. She remembered a church service she had attended once on her own. The preacher had talked about bearing your burdens with patience. Though she did not care anything about God, and rarely even went to church at all, she had understood this particular message, and it had really made an impression on her. Well, this girl had borne with her, so she would try to bear with her pain as best as she could manage.

Filled with Patience, Mia grabbed the hand of the older girl and pulled on it hard. To her surprise, she found that her feet were steady, and that she would be able to stand solidly on her own. The pain in her body had receded to the tips of her fingers and a tingling sensation on the surface of her skin. She used the friction between her feet and the floor to pull herself upright. Although she was wearing only tights and no shoes, they were worn enough that her feet stuck slightly to the cold stone on which she stood. She released the girl's hand.

"It hurts a little bit less now," she announced.

The girl's face lit up with a glowing smile.

"That's good!" she exclaimed.

Mia nodded. It was very good.

Now that she was standing, she could see that, on either side of her, were grey, stone coffins lined all in a row. On the left side, the side on which the girl was standing, were three other children: two boys and one girl. She remembered hearing the voice of the older boy.

"I want to go see the other children," she told the older girl.

"Okay. Let's go!" she responded.

Mia stepped carefully over the side of what figured must have been her coffin. The blonde girl lead her to where the other children were. Mia saw a girl with a brown bun in her hair sitting in one of the coffins. Over her stood a person who must have been the owner of the voice that she had heard. Not only did he sound like a cowboy, he looked like one too. A bandanna was tied around his neck and a brown suede hat was on his head.

Both of these children were a fair bit older than she, which intimidated her slightly. But beside the cowboy, she saw another child, a redhead, who looked to be about her own age. She approached him and introduced herself.

"Hi, my name's Mia. What's yours?"

"My name's Frasier," the boy answered.

"That's a nice name."

"Thanks."

The boy smiled bashfully. His voice was soft, but pleasant to hear. He was just about Mia's height, but his face was serious, which gave him a mature look. Beneath his clear blue eyes was a spattering of freckles, which contrasted his paper-white skin. He was squinting, and it looked as though his eyes were having trouble focusing.

"Are you okay?" Mia asked him.

"Yeah, I just need my glasses."

"Oh, you have glasses?"

Mia held three fingers in front of his face.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

The boy made a face at her.

"That's not how it works."

"How many?"

"Three. They're just fuzzy."

"Ew!" Mia cried, giggling hysterically.

Frasier sighed in exasperation.

"Not that kind of fuzzy. I meant blurry!"

But the image was already imprinted in Mia's mind. She kept giggling and covering her face.

"Ew, fuzzy fingers!"

Her laughter was infectious, and soon Frasier was giggling along with her.

"If you had fuzzy fingers, it would be hard to eat!" Mia exclaimed between gasps.

"Not if you ate with your face!" Frasier cried.

At this, Mia was puzzled. How else could you eat? Didn't everyone eat with their faces?

But she understood when Frasier put his hands palm-up in front of him like a plate and mimed eating off of them by bringing his face down to his palms and chomping wildly at the air. Mia broke into a fresh round of giggles, and soon the pair had launched into a game in which Frasier ordered food from a pretend kitchen and ate it with his face.

Since Frasier could not see without his glasses, Mia had to be the waitress. Frasier sat on the edge of one of the coffins while Mia scrambled around him, carrying imaginary food on imaginary platters to and from an imaginary kitchen.

"May I take your order, sir?" she would ask.

"Yes," responded Frasier, sitting as tall as he could, "I'll have the chicken soup."

"And would you like a spoon with that?"

"No, I'm going to eat it with my face!"

It was immense fun while it lasted, but the pair quickly tired of the game, and turned to investigating the room in which they so mysteriously found themselves. This was obviously much more difficult for Frasier due to his impaired vision, so Mia described to him their surroundings.

Mia noticed that, after a while, another little boy joined the group. He did not come over and play with them, but dashed around the room furiously, jumping in and out of and over open coffins. Mia did not think that running around like that looked like too much fun, so she left him alone, but she would have been willing to play with him if he had wanted to join them.

Eventually, the girl with the kind eyes approached the group.

"Is everyone alright?"

Her voice rang clearly through the grey hall, immediately capturing the attention of the children. As if under a spell, they stepped noiselessly back to become a part of a rough circle that had formed within the group. The The older boy had grabbed the running child by the shoulder, and was firmly, though not cruelly, holding him still.

All eyes were on the blonde woman as she continued to speak.

"To be honest," she began, "I don't know where any of you have come from, and I don't think I've ever seen you before. But I think it would be a good idea to stick together, at least for now."

Mia liked the sound of that proposal. She certainly did not want to say goodbye to her new friends, neither did she have any clue what she would do if she did. So she, along with the children, nodded her head silently in agreement. The girl with the brown bun spoke up.

"How about we go around and say our names?"

"And how old we are," added the cowboy.

Mia noticed that the girl was now standing, but was leaning on the cowboy for support. Brenda seemed to like their suggestion, and she was nodding in agreement.

"Okay," she said, "that sounds good. I'll go first. My name's Brenda, and I'm twelve years old."

She motioned for the next person on her left to speak, which happened to be the girl who could not stand.

"My name is Isabelle," she stated, and I'm ten."

Next was the boy on whom she was leaning.

"I'm Samuel, and I'm eleven."

He released his grip on the younger boy, who was now standing calmly by his side.

"And what about you, little buddy?"

They boy answered with vim.

"My name's Joseph, and I'm seven!"

Joseph held up his fingers to further demonstrate his age, and the two older girls began to giggle quietly. Mia wasn't sure why they were laughing; there was nothing unusual about holding up your fingers to show someone your age, at least, so she thought.

"Mia?" Brenda prompted, encouragingly.

"I'm Mia, and I'm six," she said, proudly. She poked her new friend in the arm to get his attention.

"Now you."

The boy cleared his throat nervously.

"I'm eight, and my name's Frasier."

"Thank you," Brenda replied, smiling at him kindly.

Frasier blushed in embarrassment, but Mia patted him on the back and gave him an encouraging thumbs-up.

"Does anyone know how we get here?" Isabelle inquired.

Mia certainly didn't. She shook her head as the other children either did the same or avoided eye contact.

"Maybe if we look around a little, we'll figure it out," Samuel offered.

"That's a good idea," Brenda replied. "Maybe it'll jog our memories to see where we are."

Mia wasn't sure how she felt about that idea. On the one hand, she was curious about where she was and how she had gotten there. But on the other, all the crying she had done had worn her out, and part of her wanted to take a rest. Suddenly, she became aware of how hungry she was. She felt that she was in no mood to explore until she got something in her stomach.

Brenda beckoned to her and to Frasier.

"Come on, now!"

"I'm hungry," Mia protested.

"Well, maybe we'll find some food along the way," was Brenda's response.

She extended a hand to her, and Mia took it, stoically accepting the proposition. She had decided to trust this girl, and followed her willingly, even though she was feeling rather grumpy.

Brenda lead them as far as the last coffin in the row, where she stopped and turned to the rest of the group in confusion.

"Wait, we missed someone!"

Mia looked down in curiosity at the empty coffin. The lid had been tipped to one side, and white strips of cloth like mummy wrappings lay in the bottom.

"No we didn't, it's open," she pointed out.

"Let's check the lid," Samuel suggested, "I think they have our names on them."

Brenda let go of her hand and walked around to the other side of the coffin. The rest of the children crowded around as she lifted the cover up to the light and read it aloud.

"Chara."

The name echoed through the room, leaving a sinking feeling in Mia's heart. She edged a little closer to Frasier and crossed her arms nervously.

"Or is it Chara?" Brenda pronounced the "cha" like chair, cocking her head in curiosity.

"Has anyone heard of a girl named Kah-ra? Chair-ah?"

Mia thought, but try as she might, she could not remember ever having heard the name before at all in her short life.

"I don't think we're going to solve this one," Samuel interjected, "Why don't we keep going and leave this be for now?"

Honestly, Mia did not care what they did as long as they stayed together and, at some point, got some food. So she took Brenda's hand when she offered it, and followed her out of the room.

Directly outside the hall was a very large set of grey, stone stairs. Without hesitation, Brenda began to ascend, taking Mia complacently with her. It seemed an eternity before they reached the top. Mia's legs ached, making every step a burden, but Brenda went slowly, and Mia never let go of her hand, though she gripped it tighter and tighter as they got closer to the top. Finally, they completed their ascent, and were faced with another, much larger grey hallway.

Mia remembered being in this hallway once, though she felt it was a very long time ago. She had been lonely then. All of her friends she had left behind, continuing on by herself to whatever destination lay ahead of her. She'd had her shoes then, though her feet were now clad in nothing but her tights. She wondered where they had gone…

Her reflections were interrupted when Brenda lead the group through a wide doorway into a sunlit room carpeted with golden flowers. They grew straight from the floor of the room, thick and full, petals shimmering in the gentle sunlight that fell from overhead. In the center of the room was a great, golden throne, the feet of which were entangled in the yellow blossoms.

Brenda released Mia's hand, who immediately dashed forward and buried her face in the flowers. She adored flowers of all varieties, her favourites being the blue, slender-petalled blossoms which grew in clusters in the woods beside her house. But though the flowers near her home were pretty, these were in a category all of their own. She had never seen any flowers that shined as these seemed to, or were as big, or as soft. As she spread her hands wide in the living treasure, a gentle scent wafted up, calming and refreshing.

When she smelled the fragrance of the flowers, her mind flashed to the time she had spent there a long time ago while she was waiting for… for something. She could not exactly remember what. She spent what felt like hours simply sitting and lying in these same blossoms. While she was there, she did not feel hungry, or thirsty, or tired. Resting there on the shimmering softness, all she had felt was peace. She had even picked some of the flowers and woven them into her hair.

The other children seemed to hold an equal appreciation for the flora, and soon the whole group was walking around and resting on the radiant carpet of gold. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Samuel gently lowering Isabelle to the ground. Apparently, there was something wrong with her legs, because once she was seated, she did not move or rise.

She sat up as she saw Brenda approach the boy, who stood to meet her.

"I'm going to go out into the hallway to see if I can find anything to eat," she told him.

Mia's heart leapt. While she was content to rest on the flowers, she was still excited at the mention of food. She watched as Samuel and Brenda argued peacefully over which one of them should go. In the end, they decided that Brenda would go as planned, and Samuel would stay, particularly to watch Joseph, who was once again running recklessly about the golden room. He shook her hand and wished her luck, after which she turned away and exited the room alone.

Mia was a bit disappointed to see her go, but was glad that it was Brenda who had to walk, and not she. Moments after she had left the room, Samuel clapped his hands several times to get the attention of the group, and called out,

"Alright everybody, who wants to play a game?"

Immediately, Joseph bounded over to the rest of the group.

"ME!" he screamed.

Mia and Frasier both sat up and scooted a little closer to Samuel in response.

"What game would you like to play, Joseph? Samuel asked.

"Duck, Duck, Goose!" he exclaimed, without hesitation.

Samuel turned to the other children.

"Are y'all alright with playin' Duck, Duck, Goose?"

"Yeah."

Mia and Frasier nodded their affirmation.

"Okay, then everyone has to get in a circle."

It took a few minutes of shuffling, but eventually, everyone was gathered in a rough circle between the great throne and the door. To Mia's left was Frasier, sitting patiently with his legs crossed, and on her right was Joseph, who was sprawled out on his back, wriggling in the golden blossoms.

"Who wants to go first?" Samuel asked the circle.

Instantly, the hand of the three youngest children shot into the air. After a moment of thought, Samuel pointed to Frasier.

"You were sitting nicely, there. How about you go first?"

Frasier leapt up, delightedly. Though he still didn't have his glasses, he was able to slowly make his way around the circle, carefully tapping each child on the head as he passed. On his third time around, he paused over Isabelle.

"Goose!" he exclaimed, lightly thwacking the top of her wobbling bun with the thick part of his fingers.

Isabelle's eyes went wide and she glanced around nervously.

"I… can't, I… I'm… I'm sorry…" she began to stutter.

Samuel patted her shoulder and began to stand up.

"It's okay, Isabelle, I'll take your turn for you."

He turned to Frasier, a playful look in his eyes.

"Better run, buddy, 'cause I'm gonna getcha!"

Frasier squealed and dashed around the circle as quickly as his sightless feet would carry him. Samuel made a show of pretending to chase him, but let him reach his seat on his own time, though he was very clearly capable of catching up to him. When Frasier reached his seat, he panted and wheezed, bending over and resting his hands on his knees.

"Hoo… You're fast for such a little guy!"

Frasier giggled happily as Samuel began to make his way around the circle. Mia watched him intently as he passed by, hoping desperately that he would pick her. She sat up as straight as she could, eyes and mouth locked open in anticipation. He was only on his second time around when he tapped Joseph on the head and shouted,

"Goose!"

Joseph leapt up with joy and charged after him at full speed. This time, Samuel had to run with all his might, due to the energy of the younger boy. Mia was disappointed, but resigned herself to watching the runners chase each other around the circle.

Though Joseph was a speedy child, Samuel made it to his place in good time. But even after he sat down, Joseph kept on running, a spectacular grin on his face. The older two children began to call out for him to stop, but it took the better part of a minute to get him to slow down and continue the game. Once again, Mia waited in anticipation as he made his way around the circle. Everyone else had already gone, so technically, it should be her turn next.

On Joseph's sixth or seventh time around the circle, she began to get impatient. She squirmed a little in her seat, but quietly waited for him to make his decision. Samuel, however, sensed her agitation.

"You gotta pick someone, Joseph," he called.

Suddenly, Mia felt a solid tap on the top of her head. She had been chosen!

"Goose!" Joseph exclaimed as he zoomed past.

Mia scrambled to her feet, giggling in pure joy as she chased after Joseph. The flowers provided decent footing, and she managed to just keep pace with him, though she could not quite overtake him. She chased him around and around the circle, two, three, four times, before Joseph finally dived head-first into his seat. Mia slowed herself to a walking pace, breathing rapidly from the exercise. She had completely forgotten about her hunger and any trace of a foul mood. Now all eyes were on her, as she began to circle the small group of children.

It made her feel important to be It. She felt special; she got to choose the next person to be goose, and with her was the power of the game. Who would she choose? Now this was a question. Everyone who had wanted a turn had already gone. Time was running out; she would have to make a decision quickly.

On her fourth trip around, she knew who she was going to pick. Who else, but her new friend Frasier? She lightly tapped him on the head.

"Goose!"

Frasier got up, shakily but decidedly, and carefully trotted after her. Mia took off with glee, speeding easily away from him, and heading straight to the spot he had recently vacated.

Just as she had reached his former seat, she saw Brenda striding joyfully into the room. She scooted towards Isabelle to allow room for her and Frasier back into the circle.

"Alright," Brenda grunted as she took her seat between Frasier and Joseph.

From her pockets, she pulled two glittering, transparent cups filled with creamy, vanilla yogurt. Mia reached out her hands eagerly, and scooted forward to receive one of the glasses. Immediately, she stuck her fingers into the cream and began to devour it sloppily. The yogurt felt cool and soft on her hands. As she ate, she discovered that there were bits of edible glitter mixed into the cream that crunched when she chewed them.

Contented with her prize, Mia slid in between Brenda and Frasier, licking up her yogurt happily. Frasier also had a glitter parfait, though she thought

that he was making much more of a mess of himself than she was. Brenda was passing out food to the rest of the children, keeping only a wrapped piece of candy for herself.

She did not look up from her food, but she could hear the older children talking amongst themselves.

"Are you feeling any better?" Brenda asked.

"I still can't walk by myself, if that's what you're asking," Isabelle replied.

She heard Brenda shift beside her onto her hands and knees.

"Maybe this'll help."

Mai glanced up and saw Isabelle accepting another glitter parfait and preparing to eat it, daintily. She returned her attention to her food, but heard Brenda say,

"Sorry, there weren't any spoons."

"It's okay," Isabelle politely replied.

Mia did not really care that there were no spoons. Her hunger had returned to her, and she ate with vigour.

The children ate for a while in silence. Mia gobbled up her food eagerly, enjoying every last bit. Just as she was licking clean the sides of her parfait glass, Samuel's voice rang out.

"Hey Frasier, what's that written on the throne there behind you? There's somethin' etched below the seat."

Mia looked up, first at Samuel, then at Frasier, then at the great, golden throne which sat behind him. She noticed that there was, in fact, a little copper plate beneath the purple, velvet seat. Frasier squinted at it intensely.

"Frasier, can you read?" Brenda inquired

"Yeah, but I don't have my glasses." Frasier replied, still looking at the plate.

"That's right!" Mia thought, "He can't see! But I can read…"

Mia bounced onto her knees, dropping her empty yogurt glass absent-mindedly.

"I can help him!" she exclaimed.

Kneeling beside him on the golden blanket of blossoms, Mia began to sound out the words, letter-by-letter.

"K… oh, that's an I! Like in Mia! So kee…"

"Yeah, but it's after a K, so it says 'ih,'" Frasier cut in.

"Oh, okay. Kih… N, and that's a G. Kin-g-"

"'N-G' says 'ing,' Mia."

"Right! Okay, King… Oh look! An A! S… As…"

"And that's another G, right?"

"Yeah! And an o, so Asgo…"

"Is that an R?"

"Yes, and there's an E after it."

"So, Asgore?"

"No, there's an E."

"Yeah, but the E is silent."

"Oh, alright then. Next there's a D…"

"And another R."

"And two E's."

"So Dree…"

"Hey! There's an M! All the letters in Mia!"

"That's pretty cool. There aren't any F's, though… What's that after the M?"

"It's a U."

"And then two more R's."

"Dreemurr."

"Right. Let's say the whole thing together."

"Okay."

Slowly, carefully, the children sounded out the inscription in unison:

"King Asgore Dreemurr."

Mia sat back, satisfied with her work. The name had made an impression on the group. They were murmuring anxiously, as though the memories associated with the name were not necessarily good ones. She herself took a moment to reflect on the name. She knew that she had heard it before… but she could not remember where.

Suddenly, she heard a low, kindly voice in her head, speaking to her softly, but clearly.

"My name is Asgore Dreemurr. It's nice to meet you, Mia."

Vividly, she remembered standing before a great, looming figure, her golden flower crown slipping clumsily over one ear. Though he was at least three times her height, his face was kind, and he spoke to her with gentleness and respect. He was dressed in royal robes, and a golden crown was on his head, resting between his two long, curved horns. He smiled at her warmly, and she smiled back, in spite of herself. She had liked this man. His presence was welcoming to her. He almost reminded her of Toriel.

Frasier was the quickest to express his reflections on the name. Whatever he had remembered, it was vastly different from what Mia's experiences had been, for he exclaimed,

"He hurt me!"

His eyes were wide and fearful. Mia was surprised at his reaction.

"But he looked so nice…" she protested.

But then she had another memory of the same figure, standing over her in the darkness, flashes of fire sending ominous tongues of reflected light up the shining trident in his hand. His head was lowered, but he somehow seemed larger and more imposing. Mia remembered adrenaline and fear coursing through her body. She felt a fiery heat and heard the crackle of fireballs exploding all around her. In her head, she screamed, as from the figure's furry paws came a lethal torrent of searing flame, bursting up mercilessly all around her.

Frasier was right. He had looked nice, but he had turned on her. Her body and mind were locked in fear and in the memory of the burning pain of his enchanted fire.

"Why did he attack us?" she wondered desperately aloud.

She could not figure it out. Why would someone who had treated her so well turn against her with such viciousness? She could not reconcile the two figures in her mind: the father and the murderer, the demon and the friend.

"I liked him," she heard Isabelle say.

"Me too," she rejoined.

For regardless of what he had done to her, she knew that, at one time, she had found in him a friend, if only for a few moments. Not that that meant she could forgive him for what he had done, or that she could ever look at him again without feeling the same sense of fear and desperation that she did when he had turned against her with fire.

She heard Samuel's voice call out commandingly over the group.

"This Asgore fellow... You all say that you've met 'im?"

Mia nodded along with the other children.

"And you say that you've fought 'im?"

Once again she nodded, a shudder running through her body. Across from her, she saw Joseph leap up and dash about the room.

"It was awesome!" he exclaimed, "There was fire and a huge spear thing that he swung around like this!"

He began excitedly to swing his leftover popsicle stick in the air, grasping it with both of his hands. Mia did not understand how he could find such fun in something so awful. She heard Brenda's voice pipe up beside her.

"But why would he fight us? We're just children, and he's enormous! What could he possibly gain from killing us?"

"He said something about wanting to save his people," Frasier offered.

"I really don't think he enjoyed hurting us," said Isabelle.

Listening to the dialogue, Mia was conflicted. The two images of Asgore once again clashed in her head. In the end, all she could think was that, no matter how nice he had been, it did not excuse what he had done. She thought that it could be true that he had not wanted to harm her.

"But he did," she spoke aloud.

Mia felt very disturbed about the whole situation. Instinctively, she leaned into Brenda, wrapping her elbow around the arm of the older girl. Brenda responded by placing a hand on her head and tenderly stroking her hair. Immediately, she felt better. A feeling of comfort and warmth that she rarely felt rose up within her. From her more secure position, she was able to better reflect on her feelings and on the details of the issue at hand.

The next person to speak was Brenda, who seemed to be advocating a position that was quite similar to her own.

"Yes, " she said, "I do remember him saying something about his people, and how he wanted them to be free. He wanted to give them hope. But wasn't that what we were supposed to do? Didn't you hear of the prophecy? The angel from above?"

Mia had no idea what she was talking about. She had never heard about such a prophecy, and she did not know where Brenda had gotten the idea that it was their job to help the monsters. But as she sat in her position of security and comfort, she realized why it was that she was so upset with Asgore. It wasn't that he had hurt her. She had been hurt before, and she had always recovered. It was that he had let her down. She'd had such high hopes for him, that he would be good to her. She had so badly wanted him to be her friend, and for a moment, it had looked as though he was going to treat her as one. It did not bother her when her parents yelled at her and belittled her. She knew that they didn't like her and that they did not care if she was happy. But she had hoped so much that Asgore was going to love her, and he had turned on her, dashing her hopes with a swing of his great spear.

She tried very hard to articulate these feelings to the other children, though she could not quite find the words to explain her thoughts exactly.

"I don't care," she began, "He was really scary. I thought he was going to be nice, but then he tricked me. He wasn't nice at all! I don't like him! I don't like him…"

Tears had welled up in her eyes as she was speaking, and they were beginning to spill over onto her cheeks. She buried her face in Brenda's arm. Brenda rested a hand on her head and began to rock her back and forth. Mia took great comfort in this woman with the kind eyes. She was bigger than her mother, which made her warmer and cozier to hug, not that she hugged her mother much. She really did remind her of Toriel. To her, the connection between them was indisputable.

Isabelle began to speak in response to Mia's outburst. Mia listened with one ear, but she really did not care what she had to say. She had made up her mind about Asgore, and there was little that Isabelle or anyone else could do to change it.

The room fell silent as Isabelle spoke. Even the flowers seemed to still their rustling petals and listen to the sweet timbre of the girl's young voice. She was saying something about forgiveness, and how anger and bitterness always ended up harming you in the end. Mia did not see how being hurt by bitterness was worse than being hurt again by Asgore, but apparently Brenda did, for she was nodding thoughtfully. Even though she had made up her own mind, Mia trusted Brenda, and if she decided to forgive Asgore, she would act accordingly, though she had not forgiven him herself.

She looked up at the older girl in anticipation, waiting anxiously for her response to Isabelle's message. She seemed to have accepted the arguments she had made. The look in her eyes was deflated, but resolute.

"I guess you're right," she said, finally. "I don't trust him, but I see your point."

Mia heard a shuffling sound from across the circle. Samuel's voice rang out from above her head.

"Well, now that we're all in agreement, what say we get a move on? There's no use waitin' around here, and I think some of us are gettin' a little jittery.."

He motioned to Joseph, who was quite literally bouncing off the walls by jumping into the air and kicking them with his feet.

Mia giggled at the sight. Her mood lifted, and she felt ready to leave the fear and disappointment of their discussion behind her.

"I think that's a good idea," said Isabelle. Without hesitation, she rose to her feet, and dusted off the back of her leotard. "Let's keep exploring, shall we?"

This caused quite a bit of shock among the other children. Mia vaguely remembered that, up until that point, Isabelle had been unable to walk, or even stand on her own without Samuel assisting her.

"Isabelle! You're alright!" her former assistor exclaimed.

"You can stand again!" Brenda cried, happily.

She rose to her feet as well, and Mia stood with her, not wanting to let go of her arm.

"Well, yes. I suppose I can!" Isabelle replied.

She seemed delighted at the discovery, looking over her newly-restored appendages in glee.

Brenda shuffled her arm around so that she was holding Mia's hand instead of pulling her around on her arm like a trailer on the back of a pick-up truck. Frasier began to stand as well, but wobbled, due to his impaired vision. Mia went to offer him her hand, but there was no need. In an instant, Samuel was by his side, leading him and keeping him steady as he had done with Isabelle.

Brenda lead her with the other children to the other side of the room. As she passed by the great golden throne in the center of the room, memories raced through her mind of her meeting and battle with Asgore. She flinched away from the throne as if it were a physical manifestation of her painful memories. Brenda seemed to understand her distress, and lead her in as wide of an arc as possible around the object of her terror.

The pair came to a halt at the end of the room, where gaped a massive, black rectangle of darkness. Mia felt a sense of dread hanging in the air. The feeling began to creep up on her that she might not actually want to keep exploring. She liked it there in the golden room, which was warm with sunlight and alive with the carpet of whispering blossoms. It felt safe to her there, even though it was where she had uncovered all of her horrible memories about Asgore. Brenda too seemed apprehensive, even afraid of the open doorway. She shrank from the opening, taking a couple of steps back into the gold-covered room.

Upon sensing Brenda's hesitation, Mia instantly became afraid. Of what, she could not be sure, but fearful she was. She placed her other hand on Brenda's arm and slid behind her, using her body as a shield between her and the great gap of which she was so mysteriously afraid.

Though it had seemed to her in the moment that all of the other children held some form of apprehension for the rectangle of blackness, apparently this was not the case. For zooming past her into the void she saw Joseph, with no sign of worry or fear to be found about his person.

"Joseph, stop!" Samuel called out to him.

Mia could not see him from behind Brenda, but she heard him call back, his voice echoing and thin.

"C'mon! What are you waiting for? Don't be scared! Asgore can't get us if we're all together!"

Mia supposed that this was true. She had been hurt by him before, but she was sure that, with people like Brenda and Samuel on her side, that they would find some way to overcome their foe. She felt just a little bit braver, and looked up to Brenda to see her reaction. Brenda was frowning, but she no longer looked afraid. Mia felt her hand being gripped more tightly. She released her grip on the older girl's arm as the two of them took a tentative step forward.

"Yeah, that's it!" she heard Joseph call.

Now that she was no longer situated behind a solid human torso, she could see the boy standing a little ways off into the expanse of darkness.

"C'mon, it's not so bad!" he continued to shout. "Whatever's out there, we can take it!"

Mia smiled at his courage. As her fear receded, falling off of her heart like a limp bandage off a long-healed wound, she became very curious about what lay through the gap. Joseph was far ahead of her, dashing further and further into the expanse, and shouting,

"Bring it, Asgore! You ain't got nothin' on us!"

Mia looked up expectantly at Brenda, and was encouraged to see her smiling confidently at Samuel. She saw Isabelle pass through the door, walking naturally and without fear, and to her delight, Brenda and Samuel followed her with equal ease. She peeked at Frasier, who flashed her a steady smile. She grinned back joyfully, then focused her attention on examining the room into which they were about to enter.

The air on the other side of the opening was cooler than that in the golden room, and Mia thought that it tingled with magic or some form of mystical importance of which she was unaware. From the ceiling shone a wide ray of white light through a large, circular hole. Mia remembered looking up at such a hole as she lay on her back on a bed of grass and golden flowers. In fact, there was on the ground directly under the light an ovular patch of grass on which grew a bed of the same, shimmering blossoms.

Slowly, they passed it by, making their way through the spacious chamber and into an L-shaped hallway which branched off to one side. Mia itched with anticipation. She knew that something very important lay ahead, and though she did not know what it was, she yearned with every fiber of her being to reach it.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw Joseph pass through an open doorway at the end of the hall and heard him cry out in wonder and joy. It took all the strength she had to not to tug on Brenda's hand and plead with her to go faster, but she managed to keep herself under control, remaining calm as she and the other children passed ever-so-slowly down to the end of the hall.

Her patience was rewarded when finally, finally she emerged from the dark hallway into the brilliant light of a gorgeous, setting sun. The brightness hurt her eyes, but she embraced it readily. It was truly a magnificent sight. She and the other children were standing high up on the side of a great mountain. Before her was spread a grand landscape with forests, cities, and off in the distance, a glittering ocean dyed crimson with the light of the sun. Looking closer to her, she saw that the side of the mountain was dotted with clusters of the same, star-shaped blue flowers that grew near her house.

Mia sighed in delight. Truly, this was a sight worth waiting for. Beside her, Brenda began to laugh with joy. Mia beamed, and a single tear of gladness rolled slowly down her cheek.

But as she was looking out at the beauty that lay before her, Frasier shouted out,

"Look!"

She turned and looked in the direction of his outstretched finger.

"It's Toriel!" he cried.

Mia squinted her eyes and saw a pair of figures descending the mountain on a dirt path some ways ahead of them. She gasped, and squealed in delight. She and the rest of the children began to dash down the mountain as quickly as they could go. Though she was running as fast as she possibly could, her little legs simply could not keep up with Brenda's. She began to skid, her stockinged feet providing little friction to aid her.

She was just beginning to panic when she found herself being lifted forcefully into the air by her armpits. Brenda had picked her up and was holding her securely against her hip. Mia threw her arms around the older girl's neck, and beamed as they went careening down the mountainside. She felt as though she was flying, though the rocky, downhill terrain made for a bumpy ride.

Growing ever-nearer ahead of her were the two figures, one short and brunette, the other tall and clad all in purple. It was becoming increasingly obvious to her that the latter of the two figures was Toriel, that wonderful figure who had welcomed her with such warmth to the underground when she had first descended. She began to call out to her as she drew near.

"Toriel! Toriel!"

The pair halted. Without turning around, the taller of the two figures answered her.

"Mia?"

Mia's heart leapt in joy. Toriel remembered her! She watched deliriously as Toriel dropped the hand of the figure beside her and peeked over her shoulder. She gasped, and put her hands up to her mouth.

"Mia! Brenda!" she exclaimed.

Giggling uncontrollably, Mia barrelled into her open arms. She smothered herself in Toriel's white fur and her sweet-smelling purple dress. After a few minutes, she felt herself being lifted from Brenda's arms. She clung to the monster tightly, the entirety of her being flooded with pure happiness. She felt the rumble of her chest as she cried out in a loud voice,

"Isabelle! Samuel! Frasier! Joseph! Oh, my children have returned to me!"

Before long, Mia was buried in a bouncing blob of children. It was a group hug; something of which Mia had never before been a part. Immediately, she knew that she liked it. For the first time in her life, she felt like she belonged somewhere. Yes; here, sandwiched between her friends and the only grown-up who had ever put her needs above her own, this was her place. This was where she was meant to be, and in this moment, Mia could not have been any happier.


	2. Joseph Was Filled With Bravery

Joseph thrust open his eyes, or at least, he thought he did. It took him a few moments of shutting them and opening them again before he realized that it was simply too dark to see. He was lying on his back on a hard surface, and he was feeling rather stiff. He decided to get up. But the moment he contracted the muscles on his back, vicious whips of fire lashed at him from the floor. He gasped and gave up the effort, his back ablaze with searing pain. He tried twisting and rolling to either side, but it only produced the same effect.

Somewhere off in the distance, a child began to cry. Joseph wondered what their problem was. He himself lay as still as he possibly could, to avoid enticing his fiery torture back to him. As he lay, his pain did not seem to diminish, but he was able to somewhat put his mind off of it. He wondered if he could move any other parts of his body, even though his back was giving him trouble. He wiggled his fingers slightly. They were stiff and very cold. He drew his legs up towards his chest. Just as the soles of his feet made contact with the floor, the tops of his knees stopped against a frigid, immovable surface.

" _How long have I been in here?"_ he wondered.

Another child started crying, joining the other in a sort of dissonant, complementary harmony. If he could not explore his surroundings with his eyes or his feet, he decided the must try to investigate with his hands. After feeling around inquisitively above, below and beside him, Joseph came to the conclusion that he was inside some kind of large, stone box. He decided that being inside it was growing rather tiresome, and that it was time to get out. He pressed against the stone ceiling as hard as he could, but it did not budge. He relaxed his force on the stone wall, then punched it with all his might with his right fist. Instantly, he regretted his decision. He let out a grunt of frustration, then shoved his entire right hand into his mouth, the knuckles of which were stinging with the consequences of his lack of foresight.

For a moment he lay, reflecting on his defeat. But after a few moments, the sound of two large, stone objects smacking together reverberated through the floor. Joseph jumped, and smiled in spite of himself. He waited in gleeful anticipation, holding his breath, his fist still lodged firmly in his mouth. Just as he was beginning to wonder if the sound had been an isolated incident, and that he was waiting in vain, a heavy, grinding sound manifested itself very close on his left side. His heart pounded in excitement as the rumble was followed by another sharp bang. He wiggled his shoulders restlessly, which brought back his original pain in full force. He winced, then scowled. His fist still stung a little, and this, combined with the pain on his back, was becoming rather difficult to handle.

Suddenly, light poured down onto his face. The lid to his confinement was being removed! He squinted his eyes, shrinking away from the thin, grey glow. He waited as the stone slab above his head was haltingly drawn away. A tall girl with a brown mole on her cheek was looking down at him, a slight frown on her face.

She reached a hand down towards him. Joseph did not take it, but attempted once again to rise. The pain in his back flared up again, sharp and cruel, like red-hot knives slicing eagerly through his skin. He collapsed back into his box, his eyes welling with tears.

"My back hurts," he whimpered.

Though his vision was blurred by his tears, he saw the girl's hand retract and merge with the blue of her shirt.

"It's okay," she replied, quietly. "Just lie there. We won't leave you behind."

With that, she melted away from his vision, leaving him alone once more to deal with his situation. For a moment, he could not even think, due to the return of his pain. He squinted his eyes and tried to breathe normally until the wave of fire had dwindled back down into a slow ache. He opened his eyes again. He took his fist out of his mouth and wiped it clumsily on his shorts. He then brought both of his hands to his eyes, and used the backs of them to wipe away the tears which clouded his vision. He sniffed once or twice.

Now that his brain was clearer, he was able to reflect on what had happened. The girl… did he know her? He did not think that he did. She had looked angry… Surely not at him? Could she have been? No, if she had been mad at him, she would not had had such a kind-sounding voice. What was it that she had said to him? He thought for a moment, his groggy brain not yet fully capable of proper function. She had told him to just lie still. A rush of frustration flared up inside him at the thought. Just lie there! How could he just lie there? He did not want to sleep! He wanted to get up and play!

At least she had left the cover open on whatever sort of box he was in. Though there was nothing much to be seen from his particular vantage point but an endless sea of grey, he could hear voices and other heavy banging sounds echoing through the room. Without anything better to do, Joseph attempted to count how many other people were in the room by listening to their voices. However, this proved to be more difficult than he had anticipated, as there were multiple conversations going on at the same time, and some of them were louder than others.

There was the voice of the girl that he had spoken to, though he could hardly hear her over the crying he had heard earlier. When the sobbing finally died down, he heard the voice of an older boy, which seemed to be coming from a fair distance away. All of the voices and sounds were coming from his left; on his right, there was nothing but silence.

He heard soft, padded footfalls reverberating off of the floor. Irritation welled up within him. Why couldn't he go see what was going on? How come he was the only one trapped in a box? It wasn't fair!

Disregarding the pain in his back, he began to squirm, trying desperately to force himself to sit up. But his muscles overrode his will, crying out and collapsing under the strain. He let out a high-pitched grunt of frustration. He was losing his battle against gravity, though not for lack of a fight. As he strained, he heard rapid footsteps patter towards him. The girl who had opened the lid of his confinement had returned. She was not frowning this time; instead, she had an air of renewed life. Just seeing her made him feel a little more courageous. He called out to her.

"I can't get up!"

The girl got down on one knee beside him. A familiar fire was sparkling in her eyes. Looking into them rekindled his warrior's spirit. He locked his gaze with hers as he continued his struggle to rise.

"Why? What's wrong?" She asked him.

Her voice was melodious and authoritative.

"My back hurts!" he cried. "It feels like it's burning!"

He scrunched up his face in pain, but did not lose eye contact with the girl.

"I know it hurts, bud, but you've gotta push through it! Be brave! You can do this!" She extended a hand to him for support.

A mixture of courage, inspiration, determination and pride rose up steadily within Joseph's chest until the fire in his back was dwarfed by the fire in his heart. Filled with Bravery, he sprang to his feet, without even touching the girl's hand. His back still hurt, but the pain was suddenly far less than it had been, and was dwindling by the second.

"Alright! Good for you! You did it!" the girl exclaimed.

Joseph took a step forward. He staggered, but regained his balance quickly. He stepped out of the box and faced the girl.

"Thank you very much."

He nodded firmly, and without waiting for a reply, he turned around and headed off into the room. The walls were grey, and so was the floor. Lined up against the left wall was a row of great, stone coffins, the lids of which had all been removed and were either lying on the ground or propped up against the sides of their respective containers. There were many other children in the room with him. Besides the girl who had helped him up, there was an older boy with a cowboy hat and another girl who was leaning heavily on his arm. In front of them were two younger children, a boy and a girl, one with short, orange hair and the other with brown curls and a crimson dress.

He ran past all four without giving any of them a second look. It felt so good to be running again. He had felt cramped and restrained in his box, but now all the energy he had pent up came rushing out through his limbs. There was not much space for him to work with, but Joseph did not mind. He hopped over and across empty coffins and ran in circles around and between them, the pain in his back decreasing steadily all the while, until without him noticing, it dwindled away completely.

Suddenly, he felt himself being pulled to a halt. The boy with the cowboy hat had grabbed his shoulder and was forcefully holding him still. His grip was unrelentingly firm, almost painfully so. Joseph struggled and squirmed, but could not free himself. As he wiggled under the older boy's grip, he heard the girl with the fiery eyes begin to speak.

"Is everyone alright?"

There was a pause. Joseph continued to struggle, and the boy's hold on his shoulder did not lessen. No one answered her question, and eventually, she continued to speak.

"To be honest," she continued, "I don't know where any of you have come from, and I don't think I've ever seen you before. But I think it would be a good idea to stick together, at least for now."

The children around him nodded. Half-heartedly, he strained against the hold of the cowboy, leaning heavily to his left. The boy held him relatively upright, and he did it fairly easily. He seemed to be pretty strong; Joseph respected him for that.

The girl who was standing on the other side of the older boy spoke up.

"How about we go around and say our names?" she suggested.

"And how old we are," the cowboy added.

This was an idea that Joseph could get behind. He loved making new friends, and he itched to tell the other children about himself. Fortunately, the rest of the group seemed to share his enthusiasm. The girl with the fiery eyes was nodding.

"Okay, that sounds good," she replied. "I'll go first. My name's Brenda, and I'm twelve years old."

Joseph stood still as the other older girl took her turn.

"My name is Isabelle, and I'm ten."

Beside him, the boy with the cowboy hat spoke up. Joseph tilted his head back to look up at him.

"I'm Samuel, and I'm eleven."

At last, the pressure on his shoulder was released. Samuel looked down at him, a sunny smile on his face.

"And what about you, little buddy?"

Joseph beamed.

"My name's Joseph, and I'm seven!" he answered, vigorously.

He held up seven fingers proudly to show the group. It had been his birthday recently, and telling the world that he was seven years old had not yet lost its novelty. The older girls began to giggle when he put up his hands. He frowned.

" _Why are they laughing?"_ he thought.

And idea rose up in his gut. He had put up seven fingers, hadn't he? He had learned to count in kindergarten, but he still made mistakes sometimes. Fingers frozen out straight, he pulled his hands back down in front of his face, and began to count them in confusion.

"I'm Mia, and I'm six," said a female voice from across the room.

Joseph looked up. The voice belonged to the brown-haired girl. She did not interest him at all, and he returned to the counting of his fingers.

"Now you," the same voice said.

Joseph heard someone clear their throat. He guessed it to be the redheaded boy who had been playing with the girl earlier.

"I'm eight," he said, "and my name's Frasier."

It was as he had suspected. He was holding up eight fingers, not seven. He quickly fixed his mistake, then dropped his hands in satisfaction. The other children were saying something about figuring out where they were, but Joseph did not really care, and was not listening very hard. He started to shift and wiggle again, but he stayed in place for fear of being shackled to Samuel's side once again.

The other children seemed to have come to a consensus: they were to stick together while they explored the location in which they so mysteriously found themselves, with the intention of possibly remembering exactly how they had gotten there. Joseph had no problems with this idea, though he did not really care too much about figuring out what had happened to bring him to his current situation. All he knew was that he was here, and that he had friends, and that was enough for him.

He fell in with the rest of the children as they started shuffling towards the far side of the hall, where stood the room's only exit. They had not gone far when Brenda, who was at the head of the group, stopped abruptly.

"Wait, we missed someone!" she exclaimed.

She was staring down at the last coffin in the row, a concerned expression on her face. Joseph elbowed his way to the front of the group to get a better look.

"No we didn't; it's open," Mia pointed out.

Joseph peered into the coffin. White strips like mummy wrappings lay limp on the bottom of the stone container. He began to bounce with excitement, but he dared not touch them.

"Let's check the lid," Samuel suggested, "I think they have our names on them."

Joseph leaned on the edge of the coffin and kicked his heels in the air in anticipation. Brenda walked around to the other side of the coffin to where a solemn slab of stone was resting. Grunting slightly under its weight, she lifted it onto one knee, holding it up to the light so she could read it.

"Chara."

When Joseph heard the name, he stopped fidgeting. The sound of it made him feel uncomfortable inside, but not in the way he was used to. He could not get rid of the feeling by running around. Instead, it made him want to stand as still as he could, as if the creepy feeling would not notice him and hopefully pass him by.

"Or is it Chara?"

Brenda pronounced the 'cha' like 'chair,' cocking her head to one side in a puzzled manner. She turned to look at the group, the slab of stone still balanced awkwardly on her knee.

"Has anyone heard of a girl named Kah-ra? Chair-ah?"

Joseph had not. However, he felt the sense of tension ease among the group, which lifted his own spirits considerably. He turned away from the coffin and began to throw himself absent-mindedly against a wall, bouncing repeatedly off of it with his hands. After a few moments, he heard Samuel's voice suggesting that the group keep going. Joseph noticed the rest of the children reassembling themselves; Brenda set down the slab roughly and took Mia's hand, Samuel and Isabelle shifted slightly towards the door. He waited until the very last second, until the group was just about to exit the room, before he sprang after them, dashing far ahead up a great set of grey, stone stairs.

He was much faster than the others, and could have easily reached the top on his own, but something kept him tethered to the group. Instead of running straight to the top, he hopped up and down the stairs before, behind and between the other children, relishing the feeling of the hard stone slapping against the rubber soles of his shoes. Each time he took a step, little lights flashed from the sides of his red and black runners. He stomped his feet as hard as he could so the twinkling flashes light up the shadows around him.

When the group reached the top of the staircase, Joseph found himself somewhere near the bottom. His heart leapt as he saw the heads of his friends disappear behind the last stair, and into the expanse beyond. He bounded after them, up the steps and into a wide, grey hallway. Here he paused. Something seemed oddly familiar about this place, with its blank, grey walls and stale, yet stimulating air. Last time he had been here, he had been alone, and agitated beyond belief. But now he had friends, and he was excited and happy.

Friends! That's right, he had friends!

The moment he remembered, he burst after them into a warm, sunlit room which shimmered with gold on almost every surface. The floor, he noticed, was made of enormous, glistening, yellow flowers. Joyfully, he dived head-first into their soft, calming embrace.

"Joseph, don't!" He heard Isabelle exclaim, "You'll ruin them!"

But it was too late. He was already completely buried in the blossoms, rolling over and over in their fragrant softness. They had a sort of calming effect on him, for though he soon rose to his feet and began to run once again, he reduced his speed to a gentle trot, and the older girls seemed to cease worrying for the safety of the group. The golden petals felt good as they brushed against his ankles and calves. It was glorious to be running on real earth, especially after the cold stone of the previous rooms. He faintly wished he was in a forest somewhere, maybe hunting animals with his dad. That would be fun.

Where were his parents, anyway? Just as a pang of melancholy began to swell up in his chest, he heard Samuel clap his hands and call out in a loud voice.

"Alright everybody, who wants to play a game?"

"ME!" Joseph screamed.

He loved games! He threw himself towards the center of the room, his energy fully restored.

"What game would you like to play, Joseph?" Samuel asked him.

It did not take him long to come up with an answer. He knew his favourite game, and took every opportunity he could get to play it.

"Duck, Duck, Goose!" he cried.

Samuel turned to the other children in the group.

"Are y'all alright with playin' Duck, Duck, Goose?"

His question received a 'Yeah,' from Mia, and nodding heads all around.

"Okay, then everyone has to get in a circle," Samuel concluded.

Joseph plunked himself down on the carpet of gold. The other children shuffled around him, trying their hardest to form a compromise of a circle. He began to squirm around in the flowers, his excitement getting the better of him. At one point, Samuel came up behind him and gently coaxed him over a few spaces. He ended up with Isabelle on his right and Mia on his left. At last, Samuel sat down as well, between Frasier and Isabelle.

"Who wants to go first?" he asked, slapping his hands on his knees enthusiastically.

Instantly, Joseph's hand shot up. He had been lying on his stomach, but his hand dragged him upward until he had scrabbled himself into a sitting position. Frasier and Mia also had their hands up, their eyes wide and pleading. Joseph wiggled his fingers and waved his hand, stretching up as high as he possibly could to get Samuel's attention.

The boy thought for a moment, then looked purposefully at Frasier.

"You were sitting nicely, there. How about you go first?"

Joseph flopped back down to the ground, staring up at the ceiling in exasperation. But as he noticed Frasier begin to make his rounds of the perimeter of the group, he shot up once more, making himself as tall as possible to increase his odds of being chosen. He slapped his hands on his legs and rocked back and forth impatiently. Just as his limbs were beginning to itch, he heard Frasier exclaim from the space beside him,

"Goose!"

Frasier had chosen Isabelle, who was sitting with her legs stretch out in front of her, and who seemed to have no intention of moving. Joseph deflated slightly, but remained seated, staring expectantly at Isabelle. Her eyes were wide and she was stuttering nervously.

"I… can't, I… I'm… I'm sorry…"

Samuel rose to his feet and patted her on the shoulder as he did so.

"It's okay, Isabelle," he said, "I'll take your turn for you."

Joseph shifted restlessly. Samuel turned to face Frasier and called out,

"Better run, buddy, 'cause I'm gonna getcha!"

With a squeal, Frasier tumbled around the circle with Samuel hot on his tail. He was going so slowly; surely the older boy would catch up to him! Joseph watched in anxious anticipation, but Samuel never seemed to gain any ground. Why wasn't he running? Why wasn't he gaining on him? Mentally, he urged Samuel on, his eyes firmly glued to the pair.

When at last Frasier reached his seat, Joseph let out the long breath he had not noticed he was holding in. He still did not know how Frasier had managed to slip past Samuel, but that was not important to him anymore. What was important was that it was Samuel's turn, and this time, he might just get to be Goose.

Samuel paused for a moment, his hands on his knees, panting for breath.

"Hoo… you're fast for such a little guy!" he exclaimed.

Joseph sighed in frustration. He hated sitting; he wanted to get up and run! Finally, Samuel caught his breath again and began to circle around. Joseph felt a hand, warm and broad, 'duck' the top of his head as he passed by for the first time.

" _Come on!"_ he thought to himself, the words repeating and humming together like a motor to form a cacophony of energy and impatience.

" _comeoncomeooncomeoncomeoncomeoncomeon"_

"Goose!"

Joseph felt a solid tap on the top of his head. He clutched it in surprise with one hand, using the other to propel himself upwards and forwards, as fast as he physically could go. But Samuel was already ahead of him, bending around the circle like a pack of dogs on the hunt. Eagerly, Joseph tore after him, his light-up feet pounding against the rich soil of the gold-saturated sanctuary.

Samuel reached his place and sat down, but Joseph did not care. He continued to run, arms and legs pumping furiously. It felt marvelous to be moving at top speed, the wind rushing past his face and through his hair, all his body parts working together in harmony to propel him faster and faster through the golden light of the sun. The older children began to call out to him, telling him to slow down, but the feeling was too much fun to give up. He kept going until Samuel got back up and blocked his path with his body, bringing him to a reluctant halt. Samuel sat back down, and Joseph realized that it was his turn to choose the next Goose of the group.

Gasping for breath, a wide smile stretched across his face, he began to circle the group, tapping each beloved head as he passed by. He had no idea who he was going to choose. He was simply enjoying the pattern of his motion and the attention which the other children were paying him. He looked down at his his friends as he tapped them, muttering 'duck' over each one, almost as a blessing. He quite enjoyed playing with them, and he was happy that they wanted to play with him, too. The boys at his school were too mean. They picked fights with him and yelled at him. The older girls ignored him, and the boys… well, he never talked to the older boys. Not that he was afraid of them. He just got the impression that it would be best to leave them alone.

"You gotta pick someone, Joseph!" Samuel called.

Joseph smiled. He could talk to Samuel. Samuel actually wanted to play with him. Suddenly, he realized that he was getting tired of walking around. Mia was next in the circle. She was a good enough person to choose.

"Goose!" he exclaimed, as he bopped her curly head.

Mia was pretty fast, for a girl. She kept good pace with him, though he was not running his absolute fastest. Running with her was fun. She giggled as she ran, which made him excited again. After four or so laps, he collapsed head-first into the empty space which she had left in the circle.

When once again he pulled himself into a sitting position, he noticed that Mia had begun her ritual journey, walking around and around the circle with a kind of grim solemnity on her face. Stoically, he let her tap him multiple times on the head as she passed. For the moment, he was content to sit relatively still. He tapped his toes on the ground and rocked back and forth slightly, but for all intents and purposes, he was sitting still.

After Mia had passed him for the fourth time, she finally made her choice. Exuberantly, she bestowed on Frasier the grand title of 'Goose,' and the pair rounded the circle with glee. Joseph's attention turned to the soft squeak and shuffle of a pair of running shoes approaching from the direction of the hall.

The entire group turned as Brenda marched triumphantly in. In her hands, she held two parfait glasses filled with glittering vanilla yogurt. He scooted over to allow her and Frasier back into the circle, as did Mia, who had found her seat already. The cups in her hand were quickly snatched away by Frasier and Mia. She reached into her pockets and produced another cup of yogurt and half of a double-popsicle, both surprisingly clean and un-melted.

"Do you want one?" She held out the parfait in his direction.

He shook his head.

"Can I have the popsicle?" he asked.

"Sure."

Brenda passed him the treat, which he grabbed, eagerly. He took a big bite out of the top. It was juicy and sweet, but also very cold. He shuddered and swallowed it quickly. The popsicle was red, his favourite flavour. He sometimes wondered which fruit it was supposed to taste like: apple, strawberry, raspberry, watermelon… Then again, weren't most watermelon-flavoured things green? No one ate the green part of a watermelon, though. He was confused. It did not help that the popsicle that he was currently eating did not taste like any of those fruits.

He leaned back, lifting his heels off the ground as Brenda crawled onto her knees in front of him. She was attempting to pass the remaining yogurt parfait to Isabelle, though her arms were not quite long enough. Samuel took the cup from her, handing it to Isabelle politely. Mia and Frasier were both licking away at their yogurt, their faces equally covered in the glittering cream.

" _What makes it sparkle?"_ he thought to himself.

He had never heard of sparky food before; his mom had always told him not to eat glitter.

Suddenly, he felt a pang of anxiety. Where were his parents? Why were they not here? Where had they gone? He strained to remember the last time he had seen them.

" _Let's see,"_ he thought. " _I remember being in the car… Mom was there, and Dad was too! I think he was driving…"_

He paused in intense thought, scrunching up his face from the effort.

" _We stopped, and I got out… Mom was calling for me."_

Guilt crept up on him.

" _I ran away, didn't I?"_

With this realization, the rest of the memory played itself out before him like a movie. Ignoring his mother's calls, he had run up the mountain on his own. She had tried to follow him, but his father had stopped her. He ran and ran, up and up the wooded mountainside. He had not been looking where he was going, as per the usual, when suddenly, he hit his foot on something hard and tumbled head-over-heels into the abyss. That was when Toriel had taken him in. Even though she had treated him with immense kindness, and given him everything he could ever need, he could not be happy with her. No matter how hard he tried to forget, to push the thought aside, memories of his parents came back to him, rekindling his longing to be with them again. In the end, he had made it his quest, his mission to find them once again. And though Toriel had not wanted him to leave, she seemed to understand his need to find his family, and prepared him as best she could for his journey. She had called him a brave child, which had been greatly encouraging to him. Now, despite being on what he felt to be the other side of the world from the Ruins, it was the same. He would be brave, for Toriel, and for his parents.

He bit the last chunk of flavoured ice off of the wooden stick, melting it in his mouth for a few seconds before growing impatient and swallowing it. He wiped his mouth on his arm and stuck the wooden stick in, sucking on it aimlessly as Samuel began to speak.

"Hey Frasier," he called, "what's that written on the throne there behind you? There's somethin' etched there below the seat."

Frasier turned to face the great, golden throne behind him. His head totally obscured the writing from Joseph's view, so he got up on his knees and peered over the smaller boy, craning his neck dramatically. There was, in fact, a small copper plate beneath the velvet seat, but Joseph could not make out what it said. He was able to read, but not very well, so it was unlikely that he would be able to make out what it said anyway, even if the letters were clear to him.

"Frasier, can you read?" Brenda asked.

It was a fair question. Frasier was looking at the plate intently, with a confused, strained expression on his face.

"Yeah, but I don't have my glasses." he replied.

That made sense. Apparently, Frasier could not see the letters any more clearly than he could.

Mia bounded onto her knees, dropping her empty yogurt glass carelessly to the floor.

"I can help him!" she exclaimed.

She shuffled close to the golden throne and the two of them began to sound out the inscription together.

Now Joseph was excited. His curiosity grew and grew, and with it, so did his impatience and his restlessness. No longer was he anxious or guilty over his parents. He wiggled in his seat, popping up and down on his heels, itching with anticipation for the great reveal. After what felt to be far too long, Frasier and Mia finally proclaimed in unison the message which was inscribed on the plate:

"King Asgore Dreemurr."

A candle lit somewhere in the back of Joseph's mind.

It was Toriel who had first told him about Asgore. Her message had been very clear: Asgore wanted to kill him, and the only way he could see his parents again was to pass through his castle. Though he had not wanted to admit it, he had been rather daunted by this truth. It had kept him up at night, fears and desires conflicting in his heart. But it had not taken him long to form his decision. His parents were everything to him, even though they did not always get along with each other. He knew that he would be able to take on any danger if it meant that he would be reunited with them.

So he set off on his great adventure to find the surface. Some monsters wanted to fight him, to which he readily agreed, but he always showed them Mercy whenever he was about to defeat them. As he progressed through the Underground, his skills and confidence grew. By the time he reached Asgore's castle, he felt prepared, though worry still nibbled at the corners of his mind. He had thrust it aside as best as he could, bolstering himself with memories of his loved ones, both human and monster.

At that point, he had almost been looking forward to the fight. He had enjoyed sparring with other monsters, since he knew that no one had to die. But with Asgore…

" _Wait."_ he thought to himself, " _I didn't kill 'im, did I?"_

This seemed highly unlikely. He remembered how much bigger than he the monarch had been. But the only other option was that Asgore had killed him, which was obviously not the case. Unless… was there somehow a truce? Had he been released? In which case…

"Where did he go?" Joseph exclaimed.

But the other children seemed to be just as confused as he. They were each wrapped in their own thoughts and experiences. They were still too stuck in the 'why?' to think about the 'what next?'.

Joseph's mind turned to his fight with Asgore. He racked his brain for any detail he could remember regarding what had happened that day. The first thing that came into his mind was the memory of how awesome the battle had been. By the time they had begun to fight, Joseph had fully conquered his anxieties, and was able to acutely appreciate the king in all of his grandeur. Thinking back, he remembered that Asgore had wielded a mighty, three-pronged spear, which he swung with the force of a cascading avalanche. Sparks of fire had leapt from his massive paws, lighting up the room with a menacing, other-worldly glow.

His attention was redirected to the sound of Samuel's voice, which called out authoritatively above the group.

"This Asgore fellow... You all say that you've met 'im?"

Joseph nodded vigorously.

"And you say that you've fought 'im?"

Joseph leapt up, the memory of the battle filling him with excitement.

"It was awesome!" he cried. "There was fire and a huge spear thing that he swung around like this!"

He demonstrated with what remained of his battered popsicle stick. For a moment, he felt as though he were one again battling the gigantic boss monster. While he was still not completely sure how the battle had ended, he was convinced that Asgore was still out there, somewhere. He itched to fight him again, hopefully with less hostile intentions. The thought both chafed at and excited him, causing to rush around the room like a madman while the other children remained in the circle, locked in conversation.

As he bounded around the room, he noticed for the first time a great, black, rectangular opening at one end of the room. Wherever Asgore had gone, Joseph was sure it had to have been through that door. He could not explain his rationale, but certain he was. He considered going off on his own to look for the monster king. He was not worried about his new friends; he was sure that they would be alright. But then again, what if Asgore still wanted to kill him? He might need his friends at his back, especially the older three. He liked Mia and Frasier, but he was not sure how helpful they would be in a fight.

For this reason, he decided to stay and wait for his friends, though he could hardly contain his impatience to get moving. He ran over to one of the room's gold-plated walls and began to kick it, jumping in the air as he did so to try to propel himself backwards, for no reason other than to satisfy the itch in his mind. Eventually, he heard a giggle ripple through the group behind him, and a wave of shuffling as they began to rise.

Joseph returned to the group just in time to see Isabelle stand up and dust off the back of her leotard. This seemed to cause quite a commotion among the other children. Joseph was not sure of the reason for their excitement, but he celebrated along with them anyway.

Slowly, the other children began to make their way towards the great, dark doorway at the end of the room. Joseph's heart lifted. He followed with them as patiently as he could, trying his very hardest to keep their pace. He was able to do so, for the most part, while they were moving, albeit very slowly. But when they stopped, staring apprehensively at the opening, Joseph could not take it anymore. He pushed past them, dashing head-on into the darkness. Samuel called after him.

"Joseph, stop!"

Stop? Why should he stop? The other children needed to keep going! He stopped in his tracks and turned to face them.

"C'mon! What are you waiting for?" he shouted back.

Wait. They were afraid, weren't they? They certainly looked worried about something.

"Don't be scared!" he called. "Asgore can't get us if we're all together!"

He saw Brenda frown, and take a single step forward. Joseph smiled, eagerly.

"Yeah, that's it! C'mon, it's not so bad! Whatever's out there, we can take it!"

His friends were coming with him! He was overjoyed. He turned back to face the empty blackness. The air in the room was chilly, and held a kind of tension which filled him with excitement. A single beam of light fell from an opening in the ceiling, inciting in his chest a sense of courage and adventure. He raced towards the emptiness, crying out as he ran.

"Bring it, Asgore! You ain't got nothin' on us!"

Behind him, he heard a laugh, clear and musical. But he did not turn around. He tore through the darkness, racing ever-closer to new horizons. He rounded a corner, entering a narrow hallway, at the end of which he could see a doorway. The frame over it was decorated with a emblem graven in the dark purple wood. He zoomed through it eagerly, not waiting for his friends to catch up to him.

Instantly, a wave of brilliant, ruddy sunlight washed over him. He squinted his eyes and took a deep breath. The air was sweet and clear, a sharp contrast to the stuffy, stale air in the grey room in which he had woken up. He was standing high up on the side of a great mountain. A glorious landscape full of forests, oceans and cities was laid out before him. He cried out in joy. He had been waiting for this moment for so long, and it was every bit as glorious as he had anticipated.

He picked up a small rock and tossed it as far as he could off the side of the mountain. It soared through the air, flying farther and farther, until finally it landed at the very base of the mountain, in a clump of blue, star-shaped flowers. He cheered triumphantly, pumping his fist in the air. It felt so good to be finally free to breathe the fresh, summer air and to feel the heat of the setting sun. He stood at the edge of the flat patch of dirt onto which he had emerged, stretched his arms out wide, and yelled out for joy into the world.

Soon enough, the other children joined him. He stepped back to allow them to see the landscape, having been already satiated with the beauty. Some laughed, some cried, but all were filled with happiness. Joseph looked at his friends and beamed. At the sight of their faces shining with wonder and fulfillment, his own happiness was made complete.

He was just beginning to become restless once more, when Frasier pointed down at a pair of figures crawling down the mountain path below them.

"Look! It's Toriel!" he cried.

Joseph did not have to look a second time to know that this was the case. He and the other children sprinted down the mountain to greet her. As he ran, he spread his arms out like an airplane and ran back and forth, finding the most creative path that he could. He jumped off of rocks and rolled in patches of foliage. Ahead of him, he heard Mia's voice call out.

"Toriel! Toriel!"

Shortly afterward, Toriel's all-too-familiar voice responded in joy and surprise.

"Isabelle! Samuel! Joseph! Frasier! Oh, my children have returned to me!"

At the mention of his name, Joseph stopped playing and ran full-pelt to the woman. He was the last to arrive, but he managed to squirm his way in-between the older children to wrap his arms around the monster's purple-clad thighs. He held on to her as tightly as he possibly could, and stayed there for what felt like a very long time. He had not realized how much he had missed her until that moment.

At last, he was satisfied. He pulled away from her, as did some of the other children. He scanned his surroundings. A few yards away was a great pile of boulders that was relatively clear of trees and foliage. He sprinted towards it, anticipating an epic climb.

"Joseph, wait up!" a voice called behind him.

He turned around. Racing eagerly towards him was Frasier, panting and beaming wildly. On his face was a pair of bright purple glasses. They were fairly clouded over, and one of the lenses was cracked, but they seemed to serve him well enough, as he was able to avoid stepping in holes or on small plants, even while running at top speed.

Joseph paused for just enough time for him to catch up, then took off once again toward the enticing pile of rocks. Frasier began to giggle, which made Joseph happy.

" _It must be nice for him to be able to see again,"_ he thought.

When they reached the miniature mountain, Joseph called out to the other boy.

"Race you to the top!"

As he climbed, from out of the blue, a familiar thought pushed its way into his mind.

" _What if you never find your parents?"_

But the moment it manifested itself, it was overwhelmed by memories of Toriel and a well of affection for his new friends. For the last time, he thrust the thought behind him, two small words sealing it away for good:

" _That's okay."_


	3. And Brenda Was Filled With Kindness

Brenda woke to the sound of a child crying. It was a desperate sound, but it was muffled, and she could not tell from which direction it came. She opened her eyes, or at least, she thought she did. It was so dark that she could not tell for sure. She blinked several times in her blind confusion. Where was she? The last thing she remembered… She strained to think.

Another child began to wail. She decided to deal with her situation first, and leave remembering where she was or how she got there until later. She lifted her hands and felt around. The first thing she noticed was how cold and stiff her fingers felt. She tried to draw her legs into her chest, but found that she could not even lift her legs high enough to place her feet flat on the surface on which she was lying. The tops of her knees stopped against something hard and very cold.

She lifted her hands and pushed with her palms against the solid surface above her. Suddenly, she was aware of a piercing pain in the top right corner of her head. She released the surface, gasping for breath. Now the cries of the children drilled like metal skewers into her brain. But even in the midst of her suffering, Brenda's heart went out to the wailing children. She wanted to ease their suffering, not only for her own sake, but for theirs. She knew in her heart that she wanted to help them, that she needed to help them feel better.

Filled with Kindness, Brenda redoubled her efforts against what she had decided to be a heavy stone slab placed directly over her her heart beat behind her skull, she succeeded in lifting the slab a crack. Grey light poured in, assaulting her tender eyes. She hissed in pain, but held the slab steady, and managed to tip it over the sides of the container in which she was lying. It hit the floor with a loud bang, which caused her to wince and clutch her head in agony.

It took her a while to adjust to the light and to her surroundings. She sat up, rubbing her right eye in discontent. To her left, she heard a sharp thud, and a muffled cry of frustration and pain. She looked over to examine the source of the noise, and gasped. She was sitting in the exact middle of a row of grey stone coffins. Colourful hearts decorated the lids; one heart per coffin, and each a different vibrant hue. Instantly, she knew in her heart that there were others who lay within them. " _They'll suffocate in there!"_ she thought desperately to herself.

But just as the idea came into her mind, the lid of the coffin directly to her right began to grind open. As she stood, she saw a boy about her own age sit up slowly. He was wearing a bandanna around his neck, and a suede cowboy hat sat crumpled in his lap. Clumsily, he pulled it onto his head, and tipped it to her politely. She nodded in response, then stepped cautiously out of her cold, stone container.

Even out of her coffin, Brenda found it difficult to tell from which direction the crying came. The other boy rose much more quickly than she had, though he kept one arm wrapped solidly around his stomach. They stood awkwardly for a moment, then Brenda began to walk unsteadily around his coffin to the next one on the right. The boy seemed to start, then removed his arm from around his waist and climbed out over the edge of his former confinement. He and Brenda worked together to move the lid off of the next coffin over. Inside of it lay a small boy who looked to be about seven or eight. He was lying flat on his back, his brow furrowed and his right fist in his mouth. She frowned down at him in concern.

He was not one of the criers, but he seemed to be in a fair bit of pain. She offered her hand to him. He did not take it, but attempted to scramble up, his fist never leaving his mouth. His efforts, however, were in vain, and he quickly collapsed back into the coffin. Tears welled in his glinting eyes.

"My back hurts," he whimpered from around his fist.

"It's okay," Brenda muttered in return," Just lie there. We won't leave you behind."

Her head was beginning to throb a bit less. She wasn't sure whether it was because her body was waking up, or because of some other cause, but either way, she was thankful. Behind her, she heard the grinding sound of another coffin lid being opened. She and the older boy turned to face the movement. The occupant of the coffin adorned with the dark blue soul had broken free and was propping herself up on two dainty elbows. Slowly, she sat up, and looked at the two who were already standing. Her wispy, light brown hair was tied into a bun, and she wore a tight-fitting black leotard.

Brenda approached her with curiosity and concern.

"Are you okay?"

The girl looked at her steadily, and replied with a calm voice.

"I can't stand up."

Brenda walked close enough to see that, while her pale pink tights were torn and stained a dark brown in some places, her legs appeared perfectly sound. Her face fell in concern.

"You legs look fine. I hope you feel better soon."

The girl did not reply. But from the position she was in, Brenda could hear that the cries were coming from the two coffins on either side of the girl. The standing boy also seemed to notice this, and each of them moved to free their occupants from their stone confinements.

Brenda claimed the coffin between the newest girl to wake and the one in which she had originally been lying. The heart on the cover was light blue, and under it was a simple inscription: "Mia." She braced her legs and tugged the cover off the coffin. As the stone was drawn away, the more desperate of the wails doubled in volume. Beneath the lid was a very small girl with full cheeks and a thick, disheveled mass of dark hair. She was small enough that she was able to curl up into a ball inside her coffin, and had done so, though it was obviously not giving her any comfort. Her face and eyes were flushed, and her cheeks streamed with tears.

Brenda crouched beside her and spoke to her quietly.

"Hey! What's wrong? What's the matter, dear?"

The girl opened her eyes for a moment to glance up at her, but immediately screwed them shut again.

"It hurts… it hurts!" she whimpered.

Between sobs, she repeated this like a mantra, as Brenda shifted onto her knees.

"What hurts?"

"Everything!"

The girl kept sobbing and whining, though her cries were gradually becoming less shrill. Brenda waited patiently, cooing to her softly until she had reduced her wailing to an occasional whimper. Brenda stroked her face gently, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. She reached for the corner of her apron. It was slightly dirty, she remembered, but it would be more absorbent than her hand. To her surprise, she found that she was not wearing an apron at all. Looking down, all she saw on her body was a stretchy blue shirt and a pair of classic jeans. She shook her head in confusion, and returned her attention to the girl. Her breathing was ragged, but she had ceased her cries.

"Is your name Mia?" she asked her, softly.

The girl nodded.

"And how old are you, Mia?"

"Six."

They sat for a while in silence. Brenda withdrew her hand, and Mia rolled onto her back, still sniffling from her outburst. On her right, Brenda could see the boy with the bandanna crouching by the furthest coffin, the one with the purple heart on the lid. A small boy with red hair was sitting up inside it, clutching the older boy's hand. His other hand tightly gripped the coffin's edge. He also was sniffling, and trails of snot ran from his nose. The older boy was speaking to him gently.

"There ya go, pardner. No need to be so upset."

Mia broke the silence that had fallen between the herself and Brenda.

"Where's Toriel?"

Brenda searched her rain for a moment. The name sounded a little familiar, but…

Suddenly, memories came flooding back to her. Visions passed before her mind's eye of her loving caretaker; her purple dress, her reading glasses, her warm smile, her Home, her delicious butterscotch-cinnamon pie. A great longing rose up within her to see the great boss monster, and to feel her loving arms around her again. She was filled with memories of her kindness. Despite the melancholy in her heart, she felt reinvigorated. She turned back to Mia.

"I don't know."

The girl's eyes were locked onto her, watching her scrutinously. Brenda reached out a hand to her, and said,

"Mia, do you think you can sit up?"

Mia didn't respond at first.

"It's alright. I'll wait for you."

For a minute or two, Mia watched her. Brenda sat with her hand outstretched, never retracting her offer of assistance to the girl. Then, something in Mia's face changed. She took Brenda's hand, and pulled on it hard. She stood up completely, and carefully stepped out of the cold stone. She released Brenda's hand.

"It hurts a little bit less now."

Brenda smiled at her.

"That's good!"

She nodded.

"I want to go see the other children."

"Okay. Let's go!"

Brenda lead her to the other woken children. The red-haired boy was shakily standing, aided by the boy with the cowboy hat. The girl who couldn't stand was still sitting in her box, watching the others stoically. Mia left her side and approached the red-headed boy. Brenda let her go, but didn't watch her too carefully. She had the strange feeling that she was forgetting something. Behind her, she heard a high-pitched grunt of frustration. She remembered the boy with the injured first, and ran back over to check on him. Her head was hardly hurting at all anymore, and her perception had improved quite a bit.

When she arrived at his coffin, Brenda saw that the boy was still lying on his back, but was fidgeting furiously.

"I can't get up!" he exclaimed when he saw her.

She got down on one knee beside him.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"My back hurts! It feels like it's burning!" He screwed up his face, his eyes squinting in frustration and pain.

"I know it hurts, bud, but you've gotta push through it! Be brave! You can do this!" Brenda reached into the coffin and extended her hand to him.

This seemed to have an inspirational effect on the boy. He gritted his teeth and sprang to his feet. Brenda clapped cheerfully for his success. THe pain in her head was totally gone, much to her relief.

The boy staggered, but did not fall. He stepped out of the box determinately. He thanked Brenda politely, and trudged steadily over to the rest of the children. Brenda beamed at his recovery, and followed him to the small group that had formed by the sitting girl's coffin.

Except she wasn't sitting. She was standing shakily, leaning on the boy with the cowboy hat. He lifted her out of the coffin, and set her bare feet gently on the grey stone floor. It took her a moment to find her balance, but she did, and finally, she was free from her cold confinement.

Now that her concern for them had been relieved, Brenda was able to get a better look at the other children. The newly-standing girl was both barefoot and wearing tights, which confused her, until she noticed that the tights were torn and cut up to the girl's knees, hanging in shreds down her porcelain calves. Her limbs were slender but toned, and Brenda guessed that she was very strong. Her long-sleeved leotard revealed a tall, athletic figure, which had yet to be touched by any sign of puberty. Her eyes were a watery blue, and due to the cold, her lips were a similar shade. Her skin was clear, and Brenda suspected that the delicate veins she could see lacing her arms and neck would fade in a warmer environment.

The boy who supported her was about her height, but this was the biggest, if only similarity between them. While the girl was delicate and slender, he was broad-shouldered and steady. His tanned skin glowed with a hearty hue, and his honey-coloured hair was curly and full. Thick black lashes framed his emerald eyes. He had the thinness of youth, but he appeared healthy and strong. He was wearing a red and white gingham shirt, coupled with a pair of beige khaki pants. Leather cowboy boots were on his feet, though no spurs were attached to the heels. Brenda's heart warmed at the kindness he showed to the other girl, and she smiled in spite of herself. But when his eyes met hers, she quickly looked away, feigning interest in the red-haired boy until her curiosity became legitimate.

The boy's hair, in addition to being red, was cut extremely short. Brenda guessed that if it were a tad longer, then it would be curly. He was quite short for age, but he had an air of innocent maturity about him that gave him a thoughtful appearance. It also made him very difficult to place age-wise. His eyes were a piercing blue, and a spattering of freckles brightened his cheeks and nose. His skin, like the girl's, was very pale, though it was not nearly as transparent. He was dressed in a long-sleeved, green t-shirt with a cartoon dinosaur printed on the front, and a pair of stretchy, black pants. The cuffs of his pants and his shirt sleeves were just a bit too short for his wrists and ankles, though he didn't seem to mind. On his feet were a pair of worn running shoes. The laces were frayed, and there was a hole in the toe of the shoe on his left foot. He was talking to Mia, and groping around unsteadily in the air. His eyes seemed to be having trouble focusing. Brenda wondered if he needed glasses.

Mia was standing next to him, giggling, and helping him not to fall over as he investigated their surroundings. She was wearing a red dress made of cheap velvet and a pair of ribbed, white tights. She was not wearing shoes, but Brenda thought that it was possible that she had kicked them off during her flurry of tears. Her eyes were dark, but the whites were still red, and her cheeks were still stained with the tracks of her tears. Indeed, they made a comical pair, Mia and the boy, laughing and stumbling in their tattered clothes and teary faces.

Finally, zipping around and between the older children was the boy with the injured fist. His dark, almost black eyes glinted from an olive-shaded face. His black hair was short and spiked with some sort of gel, though Brenda thought it possible that the hairs were standing up from his pure energy alone. He was bigger than the red-headed boy, though he seemed to possess less maturity. Brenda struggled to discern which of the two was older, but decided that it didn't matter, really. He was wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of camo shorts. Each time he put his feet down, a set of red lights flashed from the soles of his shoes. Brenda was glad that this boy was in possession of shoes like these. She thought it was very likely that he got enough enjoyment out of them to make them worth twice their monetary value.

Smiling, Brenda approached the group. One by one, they all fell silent and looked at her. All, that is, except the boy with the light-up shoes, who kept dashing around until the boy with the cowboy hat grabbed him, bringing him to a reluctant halt. He winced in pain as he did so, which prompted Brenda's initial question.

"Is everyone alright?"

Some of the children nodded, some, especially the younger ones, stared at her, and the boy with the light-up shoes only struggled in the older boy's grip. Brenda squirmed a little under their gaze.

"To be honest," she continued, "I don't know where any of you have come from, and I don't think I've ever seen you before. But I think it would be a good idea to stick together, at least for now."

This time all the children nodded in agreement, except, of course, the squirming boy, though he was a bit calmer than he had been a few moments earlier. The girl with the tattered tights spoke up.

"How about we go around and say our names?"

"And how old we are," added the boy on whom she was leaning.

Brenda nodded.

"Okay, that sounds good. I'll go first. My name's Brenda, and I'm twelve years old."

She motioned to the girl on her left, the girl in the ragged tights.

"My name is Isabelle, and I'm ten."

Next was the boy with the cowboy hat.

"I'm Samuel, and I'm eleven."

He released his grip on the now-steady younger boy.

"And what about you, little buddy?"

"My name's Joseph, and I'm seven!"

Joseph enthusiastically held up eight fingers, which evoked a giggle from the older girls. Joseph pulled his fingers back down in front of his face and stared at them, counting them in confusion.

"Mia?" Brenda prompted.

"I'm Mia, and I'm six," Mia said, proudly. She poked the red haired boy beside her.

"Now you."

The boy cleared his throat.

"I'm eight, and my name's Frasier."

"Thank you."

Brenda smiled at him, causing him to shrink back in embarrassment.

"Does anyone know how we got here?" Isabelle inquired.

She looked around the group, but everyone was either looking away or shaking their heads.

"Maybe if we look around a little, we'll figure it out," Samuel offered.

"That's a good idea," Brenda replied, "Maybe it'll jog our memories to see where we are."

"Alright then, it's settled," Isabelle agreed. She turned to Samuel.

"Sorry, but could you help me just a little while longer? I don't think I can walk on my own."

"Of course, ma'am. It's not trouble at all," Samuel generously replied.

Brenda beckoned to the younger ones.

"Come on, now!"

"I'm hungry," Mia protested.

"Well, maybe we'll find some food along the way."

She extended her hand to the girl, who took it placidly. Brenda lead them as far as the last coffin in the row, where she stopped in pressing bewilderment.

"Wait, we missed someone!"

"No we didn't; it's open," Mia pointed out.

"Let's check the lid. I think they have our names on them," Samuel suggested.

The kids crouched around as Brenda lifted the cover up to the light and read it aloud.

"Chara."

The name echoed around the room, filling the children with dread.

"Or is it Chara?" Brenda pronounced the 'cha' like chair, cocking her head in curiosity.

"Has anyone heard of a girl named Kah-ra? Chair-a?"

The children strained their minds, but none of them could remember ever hearing the name before.

"I don't think we're gonna solve this one," Samuel interjected, "Why don't we keep going and leave this be for now?"

Brenda responded by nodding and taking Mia's hand once again. She lead them out the door and up a very tall set of stairs, at the top of which was another long, grey hallway.

Brenda began to get the feeling that she had been in this hallway before. She remembered feeling a sense of dread and growing excitement. She remembered her pockets weighing down with food and matches. She remembered holding a metal pan in her right hand, flipping it over and over in nervous anticipation. She remembered yellow flowers…

She lead them through a wide doorway and into a large room that was flooded with sunlight. The walls were coated with gold, and a tall gold and purple throne sat in the center of the room. But the most magnificent sight was the flowers. The entire floor was made of rich soil and luscious green grass grew around the edge of the room. But the center, growing right up to the throne and winding around its mighty feet were enormous, fragrant, golden blossoms.

Brenda gasped in delight. She released Mia's hand, who ran up to the flowers, smelling them and spreading her hands in the softness of their petals. Joseph dashed forward and dived head-first into the flowers, making zooming and explosion noises as he ran.

"Joseph, don't! You'll ruin them!" Isabelle cried.

But the flowers appeared to be very sturdy as well as beautiful, and soon all the children were walking around and resting on the golden blossoms. Brenda approached Samuel, just as he was carefully helping Isabelle to rest on the carpet of gold.

"I'm going to go out into the hallway to see if I can find anything to eat," she told him.

Samuel stood from his crouching position.

"I'll go. You stay here and rest a while."

Brenda shook her head.

"No. Isabelle might need you again, and I think it would be better if you kept an eye on Joseph. I get the feeling he'd listen to you better than me."

Samuel shrugged his shoulders.

"Alright, then. I'll stay here. Good luck, pardner."

He extended a hand Brenda. Hesitantly, she took it, and he shook it heartily. Brenda laughed a little, then waved to him before she turned and walked back into the hallway.

It took her a moment to get her bearings in the vast, monochromatic hallway. But before long, she had identified the staircase up which they had come, and was off down the long corridor on her right. At the end of it was another staircase and a large, white elevator. While Brenda had vague memories of all the other places that she and her new friends had seen, the elevator was completely new to her. She was sure that this area had only had stairs before; in fact, part of what she remembered was the soreness of her legs, worn from climbing step after step.

For this and other reasons, Brenda decided to leave the elevator alone and start her investigation at the bottom of the staircase. There was no handrail, but the steps were smooth and dry. There were many, many fewer steps than the ones she and the other children had ascended a few minutes earlier. She was at the bottom in a few moments, and was faced with a wide, rectangular gap cut away from the wall, out of which shone a pure, golden light.

Brenda slowed her pace and cautiously slipped through the entrance. Before her stood a silent, golden hall. The walls and floor were made of gold, golden pillars supported the arched golden ceiling, and gold light streamed through the gold-tinted stained glass windows. Each footstep echoed through the hall as Brenda made her way across to the other side.

She felt naked without her pan. She kept trying to hold up the iron frying pan she used to carry around with her, but unfortunately, it was nowhere to be found. She tried to distract herself by looking up at the ornate decorations in the hall. On the windows, she noticed a pattern which rang a bell somewhere in the back of her mind. She recognized the simple rune, a circle with two adjacent triangular figures, as the symbol for an angel. A very old monster had once taught her to identify the rune, and had told her the legend of a mysterious figure who was to descend into the underground and liberate the monsters from their sub-terrestrial prison. Brenda had always thought that she would be the angel to free the monsters. She had grown quite fond of them during the time she had spent with them, and she had such confidence that she would achieve her goal. Which was…

Try as she might, she could not remember. What was she trying to do? Was it the reason she recognized the place she was in now? What had happened to her, anyway?

This last question was too interlaced with other equally important questions to which she also had no answer. For that reason, she did not feel up to the challenge of facing it immediately. Instead, she turned her mind to the other interpretation of the legend. Some said that the descendant from the surface might be an angel of death, a servant of evil sent to destroy the creatures of the underground, brutally and without Mercy. She wondered for a sickening moment if this prophesied angel of death had already come through, leaving behind a silent wasteland, of which this castle was but a mere reflection.

But she shook this thought from her mind. If a ruthless killer had come through, wouldn't she also be dead? She hurried to the end of the room, where she saw a small, wooden chest and a sparkling ball of light. The light was gold like the room, but it was somehow different from the light and the gold that pervaded the rest of the hall. It stood out against the floor and attracted her attention immediately, so much so that she barely even noticed the box standing beside it. Even at twelve years old, she still felt the pressing urge to reach out and touch it. But when she tried, her hand passed right through it, without any sensation to indicate that she had tried to touch it all. Instead, she was filled with the urge to investigate what was in the box.

" _I don't know what I was expecting. It's light,"_ she thought to herself.

She opened the box, and discovered that it was much larger on the inside than she had anticipated. In it, she found several items, many of them edible. She gathered the food into her arms, and attempted to put it in her pockets. To her surprise, she found that she already had several objects on her, including and empty teacup and a mouldy wedge of cheddar cheese. She dropped the rancid food in disgust, though it did bring back certain memories of placing similar pieces of cheese in specific places along her journey in hopes of coaxing mice out of their holes.

She wondered if the mice might one day leave their holes and get the cheese… or if they already had.

From the box she was able to retrieve two monster candies, half of what appeared to at one point be a double popsicle, and three parfait glasses filled with yogurt and edible, star-shaped glitter. There were no spoons with the yogurt, but she took them anyway. They would figure something out, she was sure.

There was also a toy knife in the bottom of the box which Brenda considered taking. She suspected that Joseph would like it. But she decided against it, her pockets being nearly full with food, on top of the fact that she didn't necessarily want to encourage violence in Joseph's already rowdy behaviour.

Pockets laden with her spoils, Brenda returned back the way she had come. She had found a new sense of purpose in the simple act of collecting the food, and was now eager to return to the others. The thought that she was helping to provide for her new friends filled her heart with gladness, and it seemed to provide for her a new burst of energy.

Gaily, she sprang up the stairs, all sense of worry or apprehension in her gone. Beaming with pride, she sailed into the flowered throne room, where the other children were gathered in a circle on the floor. Mia and Joseph scooted to either side to allow room for not only her, but for Frasier as well, who appeared to have been labelled 'goose' in their game a few moments earlier.

"Alright." Brenda said, practically involuntarily.

She pulled out the food, and the younger children's eyes lit up in delight. Immediately, Mia and Frasier reached for the glittery yogurt parfaits, which Brenda gladly handed to them. She offered one to Joseph, but he was more interested in the popsicle. When Brenda passed it to him, he bit into it eagerly, then shuddered from the cold. Brenda giggled, and pulled out two monster candies. She turned to Samuel and swung the candy several times in her hand.

"Catch!"

Samuel caught the candy flawlessly. Brenda then looked to Isabelle, who was sitting with her legs out in front of her.

"Are you feeling any better?"

Isabelle shook her head, causing her bun to bobble. She reached up to tighten it instinctively.

"I still can't walk by myself, if that's what you're wondering."

"Maybe this'll help."

She picked up the last glitter parfait and stretched on her hands and knees to pass it to the battered ballerina. Samuel intercepted her reach, and ensured its safe arrival to its recipient. Isabelle accepted it delicately and went to eat it, but paused, unsure of how to start on it without any utensils to do so.

"Sorry, there weren't any spoons."

"It's okay," she replied, and daintily dipped one finger in the mixture, licking it clean as politely as she could manage.

Brenda unwrapped the other candy and popped it into her mouth contentedly. The savoury-sweet taste brought back strong memories of her arrival in the underground. Suddenly, she longed once more to return to the ruins, and to see Toriel and her cozy home again. Guiltily, she remembered the sorrowful look Toriel had given her as she was leaving, just before she turned and disappeared forever from her sight.

Toriel had not tried to stop her from leaving, but Brenda knew that she had wanted to. Sometimes, she wished to herself that she had.

Her thoughts were broken by the voice of Samuel. Isabelle was leaning toward him, and Brenda guessed that they had been conferring together moments earlier.

"Hey Frasier," he called, "What's that written on the throne there behind you? There's somethin' etched there below the seat."

Frasier turned, his hands and mouth totally covered in the glittery cream. There was, in fact, a little, copper plate beneath the purple, velvet seat. He squinted at it intensely, his sticky mouth hanging open in confused anticipation.

"Frasier, can you read?" Brenda inquired.

Without taking his eyes off the plate, he answered,

"Yeah, but I don't have my glasses."

Immediately, Mia bounced onto her knees, dropping her empty yogurt glass.

"I can help him!"

She kneeled beside him enthusiastically, pointing to each letter in turn and haltingly sounding out each word. The other children hovered in anticipation as the message on the plate was slowly revealed. Between the two children, Mia with her sight and Frasier with his above-average reading ability, the message was finally uttered aloud:

"King Asgore Dreemurr."

An anxious murmur rippled through the group. Vivid memories flashed through Brenda's mind of a grand, imposing figure who shot fire at her from his furry paws. She remembered the flash of enchanted flame and the adrenaline which pumped through her body as she hid desperately behind her charred cooking pan. She sweated at the thought of the heat and the fear, but there was more that came to her mind than a ferocious battle. She remembered a kind face, and the mixed taste of forgotten love and loss that she felt in her heart when she saw him. She felt it in the very room in which she and her friends now sat. She remembered hope, and the sense that everything really would be alright in the end. The other children had begun to clamour with similar memories and emotions.

"He hurt me!"

"But he looked so nice…"

"He offered me tea."

"He reminded me of Toriel."

"Why did he attack us?"

"Where did he go?"

"I liked him."

"Me too."

Suddenly, Brenda was not sure what to think about this mysterious figure who had treated her so well, then had struck her down without Mercy. But what she did know was that she was not the only one who had been impacted by this name, and that the whole group was becoming unsettled by it. Her friends were beginning to look around the room uneasily as their unnerving memories came back to them.

She was surprised to notice, however, that not all of the faces in the room were uneasy or sour. Some, especially the younger children, looked curious, even glad, at the memories unlocked in their minds. She noticed that they seemed to like this figure, Asgore, even though he seemed to have treated them in the same way as he had treated her.

Her meditation was broken by Samuel's voice.

"This Asgore fellow… You all say that you've met 'im?"

The group nodded, some vigorously, some more apprehensively.

"And you say that you've fought 'im?"

Once again the children nodded. Joseph leapt up and dashed around the room excitedly.

"It was awesome! There was fire and a huge spear thing that he swung around like this!"

Joseph vigorously demonstrated with his juicy popsicle stick.

"But why would he fight us?" Brenda spoke up, "We're just children, and he's enormous! What could he possibly gain from killing us?"

"He said something about wanting to save his people," Frasier offered.

"I really don't think he enjoyed hurting us," said Isabelle, generously.

"But he did," Mia stated.

Isabelle didn't have a response for that. Mia wrapped her arm around Brenda's, and clung to her as in defence. Brenda received the gesture absent-mindedly, stroking her knotted hair with her free hand.

"Yes," she said, "I do remember him saying something about his people, and how he wanted them to be free. He wanted to give them hope. But wasn't that what we were supposed to do? Didn't you hear of the prophecy? The angel from above?"

Brenda was met with vacant stares and a sense of bewilderment. It seemed that none of the children recognized what she was talking about, or if they did, they were doing a very good job of hiding it. She glanced around desperately, searching for support from the echoing room. Mia rescued her from her discomfort by exclaiming,

"I don't care. He was really scary. I thought he was going to be nice, but then he tricked me. He wasn't nice at all! I don't like him! I don't like him…"

Silent tears were trickling down her cheeks, and she buried her face in Brenda's arm. Brenda rested a hand on her head and rocked her, soothingly.

Isabelle glanced around, guiltily. Samuel was avoiding eye contact and was fiddling with his hat. She pulled her legs into a cross-legged position, wincing as she did so. Taking a deep breath and clearing her throat, she began her rebuttal.

"I know he was scary, and that he hurt us, and we don't know why. But it doesn't do us any good to be angry at him when we don't know the whole story, and we don't know what he's really like. Even if he is the heartless murderer it seems like he might be, bitterness always comes back to harm you in the end."

Brenda was nodding slowly. The atmosphere in the room had shifted slightly, was heavier and yet more clear. Isabelle sensed her momentum and, after a short pause, added,

"And besides, I really don't think he's a bad person. I know he attacked us, but before that, he treated us so well. With respect, and as if he was sad to see us go. Even when he was fighting me, I could tell he wasn't hitting nearly as hard as he could have if he'd wanted to. It doesn't excuse him but… all the same… I think we should forgive him."

Isabelle's speech had caught the attention of all the children, even Joseph though he was still waking restlessly around the circle. Eventually, Brenda spoke up.

"I guess you're right," she acquiesced. "I don't trust him, but I see your point."

Samuel re-donned his hat and rose to his feet.

"Well, now that we're all in agreement, what say we get a move on. There's no use waitin' around here, and I think some of us are gettin' a little jittery."

He nodded to Joseph, who was quite literally bouncing off the walls by jumping into the air and kicking them with his feet.

Frasier and Mia giggled.

"I think that's a good idea," said Isabelle.

Without hesitation, she rose to her feet and dusted off the back of her leotard.

"Let's keep exploring, shall we?"

The other children stared at her, open-mouthed.

"Isabelle! You're alright!" Samuel exclaimed.

"You can stand again!" Brenda cried happily as she herself rose.

Isabelle smiled.

"Well, yes. I suppose I can!" She shook her legs once or twice and looked them over, her smile spreading into a wide grin.

Brenda shuffled her arm out of Mia's grasp, taking hold of her sticky hand in exchange. Frasier rose unsteadily, still weak without his glasses. In an instant, Samuel was by his side, leading him and keeping him steady as he had done with Isabelle. Brenda wondered if he hand any younger siblings or elderly family members to take care of back home.

They left their wrappers and yogurt glasses on the blanket of golden flowers. Brenda was too wrapped up in her memories and in the other children to notice; otherwise she would have insisted that the group stop to clean up the mess they had made. Together, they made their way to the end of the room. When they passed by the throne, Mia shied away from it, leaning in closer to Brenda. The older girl lead her in a wide curve around it, following Isabelle and Samuel as they crossed over to the giant, black, rectangular void which seemed to serve as a door between most rooms in this area.

No light shone from the doorway, but through it came a draft of cold, stale air which sent a shiver down Brenda's spine. The other children too looked apprehensive, despite their resolution only moments earlier to push on in exploration. Brenda felt a sense of dread hanging in the air. Memories flashed back to her of entering this room with the great King Asgore, weary but resolved, aching desperately to push past this final obstacle in her journey. One more she saw the great explosions of fire and felt the heat of enchanted flame burst up around her quaking body. In her mind's eye, she saw his face, great and sorrowful, not even able to meet her gaze, but lowered in humility and grief. Then came the crack of searing pain across the side of her head that brought her memories to an abrupt halt.

Brenda winced from the recollection and took a couple of steps back from the foreboding doorway. Mia began to slide behind her, placing her free hand on the inside of the older girl's elbow.

Before she could react, Joseph darted past her, dashing several meters into the open void.

"Joseph, stop!" Samuel called out to him.

Joseph did stop, but he stayed where he was, beckoning to the others, earnestly.

"C'mon! What are you waiting for? Don't be scared! Asgore can't get us if we're all together!"

Brenda's brow furrowed at his logic, but his energy was infectious. She grasped Mia's hand firmly and took a single step towards the void.

"Yeah, that's it! C'mon, it's not so bad! Whatever's out there, we can take it!"

He ran further into the room, shouting, "Bring it, Asgore! You ain't got nothin' on us!"

Isabelle laughed, and strode confidently into the darkness. Brenda and Samuel smiled at each other, then followed her, bringing the younger children along with them.

The air on the other side of the doorway was cold and light, giving the impression of a wide open space. A single beam of light fell from a rift in the earthy ceiling above them, illuminating a circular patch of grass in a pool of white light. The group trod slowly past it, craning their necks up to the source of the glow. As they walked silently by, Brenda was shook with the thought that she had been in this room before, or at least, one extremely like it. She remembered the scent of golden flowers, and lying flat on her back, staring up at a faraway sunset sky.

It was then that she finally remembered, the remainder of her missing memories rushing back to her and falling into place like puzzle pieces in her mind. She had not come down to the underground as a saviour to the monster race. Toriel, while lovely, was not her real mother, though she wished that she could be. Her ultimate goal was not to free the people or defeat the mighty Asgore, though these were things in which she had hoped she would succeed along the way. No. All she wanted was to be free, to return to the beautiful surface from which she had come. That's what all of them wanted, from the great King Asgore, to the tiniest spider in the ruins, to the owner of the sticky hand which she held in her own.

She looked to the faces of her friends. Their young features were etched with the cares of premature responsibility, with fear, and with bravery towards what was to come. They still did not know what lay ahead. But Brenda was glad for them, and for the wonderful discovery that they were about to make. Because in her heart, Brenda knew that soon, they would be free.

They reached the end of the dark room. It branched into an L-shaped hall, at the end of which was a grand doorway. Above the frame was a simple, decorative engraving that was both pleasant and solemn. Without a second thought, they passed through.

And so it was that the six children at last came to the exit of the underground and emerged into the light of the setting sun. Joseph was the first to cross the once-impenetrable barrier. Long before Brenda saw the light, she heard the jubilant whoops and cries of the boy as he revelled in the glory of the surface. Isabelle was next to pass through, followed quickly by the remainder of the children. Brenda began to laugh as the golden-red light washed over her, causing the fear and consternation of the past to melt away into the shimmering air.

They were standing on the peak of a tall mountain. All the wonders and marvels of the land were laid out before them, illuminated in a radiant, crimson glow. A brilliant sunset shone before them, celebrating their return to the human world as with a fanfare of light. The children stood, shading their eyes with their hands, breathing in the fresh air and soaking up the beauty of the landscape before them.

As they looked out at the gorgeous scenery, Frasier let go of Samuel's hand and pointed down at a dirt path partway down the side of the mountain.

"Look!" he exclaimed.

There, moving slowly down the path was a tall, broad figure, clad all in purple. Beside it was a smaller shape, who who wore a striped t-shirt and appeared to be holding the hand of the larger.

"It's Toriel!" Frasier cried.

At this, all the children looked, and found it to be so. They cried out for joy and began at once to run down the mountainside. Mia began to stumble and skid, her hand still tightly gripping Brenda's and her little legs working as hard as they could to keep up with the older girl's strides. Instead of releasing her hand, Brenda scooped her up by the armpits and held her on her hip as she ran. Mia wrapped her arms tightly around her neck, and the two dashed down the mountain slope together. The pair sped ahead of the others, their combined weight aiding their descent.

As they approached the two figures, Mia began to cry out.

"Toriel! Toriel!"

Toriel stopped, and the figure next to her paused by her side without releasing her hand. Without turning around, Toriel recognized the owner of the voice.

"Mia?"

She peeked over her shoulder and gasped at what she saw.

"Mia! Brenda!"

She dropped the hand of the child beside her, who waited stoically in place. She opened her arms, and Brenda launched herself into her loving embrace. Brenda saw tears glinting in her eyes just before she was buried in the warmth of her arms. Once more, she smelled the familiar scent of Toriel's fur and felt the softness of her dress and her chin tucked against the top of her head. After a few moments, she felt Mia being taken from her arms. She passed her up willingly, but did not release her embrace.

Toriel then noticed the rest of the children descending rag-tag down the mountain toward her. She gasped and cried out, her voice tight with sudden joy.

"Isabelle! Samuel! Joseph! Frasier! Oh, my children have returned to me!"

One by one, they barrelled into her arms, until the maternal boss monster was covered in a pile of bouncing, happy bodies. Joseph quickly let her go and ran off to play on the mountainside. But Brenda simply buried her face in Toriel's purple dress, relishing in the unbridled affection.

When she finally squirmed her way out of the group hug, she noticed the child who had been walking with Toriel watching her with a blank expression on her face. The child was short, but mature-looking. Her clothes were dirty, but in fairly good condition compared to the other children. Her bobbed, brown hair was rumpled, and there were creases around her squinting eyes. The girl looked very tired, but there was a spark in her eyes that told Brenda that there was nothing in the world that could make her give up on what she cared about.

It dawned on her that this child must have had something to do with the destruction of the barrier and the mysterious awakening of the six children. She felt a sense of quiet awe and respect for her, and the trials she must have faced, possibly only moments earlier. She turned to the girl, and introduced herself politely.

"Hello. My name's Brenda."

She extended her hand, which the girl took and shook kindly. Her grasp was weak, and Brenda wondered how exhausted she must be, both physically and emotionally.

The girl did not offer her own name, so after a short pause, Brenda continued.

"So, you're the one who broke the barrier? And set everyone free?"

The child nodded gently.

"Like the angel in the prophesies."

Once again, the child nodded, a small smile twinkling onto her face.

Brenda considered her for a moment, this child, with her drained look and the sparks glinting from the heart locket on her neck, the worn dagger in her hand, and her two brown, flaming eyes. This _was_ the angel from the prophesies. She was the saviour, the victor, the one. But instead of feeling jealous, Brenda was glad. What a warrior this girl was, what a champion. She smiled back at her, warmly.

"You know, I think the two of us are gonna be good friends."


End file.
